


self-crowned king

by trite



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe – Canon Divergence, Consent Issues, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, transactional sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27695908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trite/pseuds/trite
Summary: "I’m proposing an arrangement,” Poe says.Hux is ghostly pale, even skinnier, with big dark circles under his eyes. He has this unpleasant nervous energy about him, frazzled. Being Supreme Leader does not suit him. “You can, if you wish, but don’t be disappointed by my lack of interest.”“Oh, I think you’ll be interested.”Poe and Hux give and take from each other.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Armitage Hux
Comments: 23
Kudos: 55





	self-crowned king

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: Somehow Poe (or another Resistance member) has heard that Hux finds Poe handsome. Poe, with his hero complex, goes to talk to Hux and is like, _stop terrorizing the galaxy and you can have me._ by [Gyoro](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyoro_and_Ururun)
> 
> Consent issues inherent to the nature of their arrangement, but nothing beyond that.
> 
> This is IDFic and, at times, operates on Porn Logic. Suspend disbelief, etc.
> 
> My undying love and gratitude to L for her brainstorming, canon-checking, characterization insights, handholding, cheerleading, and endless, _endless_ patience. I’d be lost without you. ♥

_Whose side are you on? What side is this anyway?_

The throne room is decorated in a way that manages to be both tasteless and extremely simple. Everything is in various shades of black, the surfaces all sharp, uncomfortable angles. There are tall silver pillars erected on each corner of the room for some indiscernible purpose. It’s as if whoever designed it had no idea what power looked like and decided to make an approximation based on outdated blueprints.

“Love what you’ve done with the place. It’s very—” Poe snaps his fingers, “overcompensating. Yep, that’s it.”

Hux — Supreme Leader Hux, as he makes _everyone_ call him or risk reconditioning. Embarrassingly dripping insecurity everywhere — sits atop a truly gigantic throne. Poe would be intimidated by it, but size doesn’t matter if you don’t know how to use it. All it does is make Hux — a considerably tall guy — seem small. The long black cape he wears not helping matters, practically swallowing him up. It looks more like a very soft blanket.

“I agreed to this meeting as a courtesy. I also agreed to have you board the ship without harm coming to you out of the goodness of my heart. We could always try a different arrangement.”

“The goodness of your heart? I love your sense of humor.”

“State your business at once, _General_ ,” Hux says, pretending not to be fuming. His act is not as good as he thinks and has obviously been led to believe it is.

Poe makes a show of looking around him. “You must not entertain often, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, visitors? You must spend all day here alone, playing with your Tarkin dolls. Sad, really. I mean, you don’t even have a chair here.” The room is completely unwelcoming; harsh, empty, and impersonal.

“Most people have the good sense of kneeling.”

Poe grins. “I bet you’d like that, huh?” According to reports they’ve gotten from defecting officers, he would like that _very much._

Hux stands up from the throne and unclips his cape, letting it pool on the floor. He walks down the dais and lowers himself onto the last step. “Sit,” he says and motions for Poe to join him. When Poe frowns at him, he adds, “This obvious display of power isn’t impressive to you, but I don’t need it. At the end of the day, I rule the galaxy with or without whatever’s in this room.”

“About that,” Poe says, sitting down. “I don’t suppose you’d abdicate if I asked really nicely, would you?”

“And leave the throne to whom? To you?” Hux looks sickly worn-down up close. The harsh, white lightning falling over him not helping matters. He is ghostly pale, even skinnier, with big dark circles under his eyes. He has this unpleasant nervous energy about him, frazzled. Being Supreme Leader does not suit him.

“You see, I was actually thinking we could do away with the title of Supreme Leader entirely. Bring back democracy, that kind of thing.”

Hux scoffs. “Democracy is overrated.”

“Right. Well, you agreed to this meeting, so there must be some room for negotiation.”

“I’m open to it, yes. You should know, though, that there is very little you have that could be of interest to me.”

“But not nothing, right?” Poe asks.

“I’ve gotten rid of all my enemies. Now I would like to stop worrying about a blade in my back when I least expect it. I propose a truce. I won’t kill you and your friends if you let me rule the way I intend. You can even remain living in disorder as you’re used to,” Hux says magnanimously.

“And you’ll continue your reign of terror.”

“If that’s how you perceive it, I don’t pretend I’ll be able to change your mind in one meeting.”

“I can stay for more than one meeting.” Poe’s trying to lead the conversation in the direction he wants. Maybe he’s hoping Hux will be the one to propose it.

Hux narrows his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“Look, cards on the table, what do you _really_ want?” Poe asks, trying to make it sound a little suggestive.

“I already have everything I want.” Hux is a really bad actor, but maybe everyone in the Order is unaccustomed to real emotions and falls for his act.

“No, you don’t. No one does, but especially not you. All you want are endless sycophants too scared of you to treat you like a human being? To be feared from afar? I don’t buy it.”

“That is because you don’t know anything about me.”

“Would you like me to?” he says, moving closer and letting their knees touch.

“What?”

This guy is either really fucking obtuse or really getting off on the idea of Poe offering. It’s fine. Not the most humiliating thing he’ll have to do, anyway. “I’m proposing an arrangement.”

“You can, if you wish, but don’t be disappointed by my lack of interest.”

“Oh, I think you’ll be interested. I suggest we phase you out of your evildoing and in return, you can have me.”

Hux swallows visibly. “Have you? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Exactly what it sounds like and however you’d like that to look. What d’you say?”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “It’s — an interesting proposal. I will consider it.” He stands up, obviously flustered, and says, “you can go back to your transport or you can remain aboard, as an honored guest, while I make a decision.”

“I’ll stay,” Poe says. If his presence can help sway Hux in the right direction, then he’s happy to.

They search him again. As if Poe is concealing weapons they missed the first time. They provide him with a room; the same sleek, cold surfaces on the walls, desk, doors. Everything seems designed for maximum discomfort, be it physical or emotional. Poe feels his surroundings chilling him to his core. There is a bed on the left corner of the room, a wardrobe with clean clothes — all black-on-black, unfortunately. Their sense of fashion is as unimaginative as it gets — a private refresher and food. They also allow him to contact his ship.

“You’re staying?” says Finn. Poe didn’t exactly tell him about his plans. He found there was no good way to ease into ‘I’m prostituting myself for the greater good.’

“Yes, while he decides. I think I can persuade him.”

“To abdicate?” Finn says dubiously.

“We’ll work up to that. Baby steps.”

Hux takes five days to decide and he refuses to see Poe during them. In the meantime, Poe wanders the long, busy corridors of the ship — accompanied by troopers, of course — and regrets every single decision he’s ever made. It’s a fully functional machinery of terror and Poe starts doubting his ability to face against it.

On the fifth day, Hux shows up at his door alone, with no guards in sight.

“Does your offer still stand?” he asks a little formally, standing at parade rest, on the threshold of Poe’s room.

Poe takes a second to consider, but he doesn’t want to talk himself out of it. “Yes, it does.”

“Then I accept your terms,” he says.

“Oh, come in, then.” Poe figures there’s a reason he came here instead of summoning Poe to the throne room. He probably wants to get to it immediately and will find a special occasion to fuck Poe on the throne at a later date.

Hux sits across from him on the wide black sofa, not making an effort to touch or force any kind of physical proximity. He talks at length about contracts and forms that Poe will need to sign, accommodations, a medical checkup, entering him into the system, and what privileges he’ll have access to, etcetera etcetera. By the end of his monologue, he stands up and says he has other matters to attend to. It’s a little anticlimactic.

“That’s it?” Poe asks.

“Was there something else you wished to discuss?”

“I need to go back home, before moving here permanently.”

“What for?” Hux seems actually confused.

“I’ll be leaving my whole life behind. I would like to say goodbye.” Poe wills himself not to let any emotion show as he says the words.

“That’s overly dramatic. You will be allowed to have monitored contact with your friends and family, just not in person.” Hux almost says it like a good thing. Like wanting to see your friends and family in person is an absurd notion anyway. Like he’s doing Poe a favor.

“Are you worried I won’t come back? I’ll sign your forms and your contracts before leaving, but this is not negotiable.”

“Very well. I expect you back in no more than five standard cycles.”

He wishes he had done this over holocall the way Hux had wanted. It’s painful and uncomfortable and overall fucking awful. The conversation with his dad leaves him wanting to cry. He can’t reassure anyone that he knows what he’s doing when it’s obvious _he doesn’t_.

“First Rey and now you,” Finn says completely desolate. They’re outside because Poe doesn’t know when he’ll get a chance to breathe in non-recycled air again. He knows it doesn’t work like that, but he wants to get his fill now.

“I’ll be one holocall away and Rey will be back. She’ll either find him and fix whatever’s wrong with him or she’ll be too late and he will have self-destructed. But she’ll be back.”

“No one who’s ever tried to save Kylo Ren from himself has lived to tell the tale. Not Han Solo, not Luke Skywalker, not General Organa. What makes you think it’ll be different this time?”

“Finn, I know it feels like that, but she didn’t abandon us. She promised Leia. She has to try.” Poe keeps trying to convince himself of the same thing.

“What about you? What’s your excuse?”

“I already told you—”

“I know. I meant for not telling me this sooner.”

Poe rubs his hand over his face. “I didn’t know how to.”

“Poe, you don’t have to—”

Poe can’t have this conversation again or he’ll lose his resolve. “I’ll contact you once I get there and I’ll send for Beebee once things have settled.”

“Are you sure—?”

“I know what I’m doing,” Poe blatantly lies.

He gets sent straight to medical for a full check-up as soon as he boards. Figures Hux doesn’t want to touch him until he’s certain Poe doesn’t have Rebel cooties. When he’s done, two troopers escort him to his rooms. They’re bigger than the last ones, more luxurious and also, not Hux’s, the way he had assumed. There’s a tall, wide bed in the middle of the room with black and white sheets. They’re cold to the touch. He traces the intricately designed black headboard, trails his fingers over the thin railings, and feels cold seeping into his bones.

He doesn’t see Hux that day, or the next one or the one after that, and when he asks he gets told _the Supreme Leader is busy_ with a judgmental look. He doesn’t like to be ignored, but mostly, he doesn’t like that Hux is out there potentially breaking their agreement.

“Hey there, is this a bad time?” Poe asks the next morning, after he’s waited outside Hux’s room for him to come out. No one stopped him on the way here, which gave Poe pause. They’ve referred to him as ‘the Supreme Leader’s guest.’ To his face, that is.

Hux frowns and then looks around. “Where are the guards?”

“They’re around. Can we talk?”

“Right now’s not actually a good time, Dameron.”

“Come on,” Poe says, leading him back inside. The suite is definitely bigger than Poe’s, but if anything, it’s even more void of warmth or anything approaching a human touch. There’s a wide, locked door by the far wall where Poe assumes Hux’s bedroom is, but he is too impatient to lead him there. “I’m not interested in you keeping me around for the optics. I get that it makes you look powerful to have a Resistance general at your beck and call. It’s even better if it doesn’t require you to commit to anything we agreed on, since I am after all not fulfilling my end of the bargain. Because you’re not letting me.”

Hux sighs. “I don’t have the time nor the inclination to have this conversation. Move aside.”

“No, I’m not letting you play take-backsies on our deal.” Poe pushes him against the wall and falls to his knees.

Hux’s pants were definitely not designed with this kind of activity in mind. They have some intricate knots and underneath that, there's a zipper and then there are some tiny clasps that Poe struggles with for a full minute. By the time he’s done, Hux is hard.

He considers licking him over his underwear, just tracing the shape of him with his lips and tongue. It would show enthusiasm, but Hux is probably too prissy to appreciate it. Some other time. He does rub his face all over his clothed dick, breathing him in and moaning for show. He smells nice.

He takes him in hand and licks from base to tip, rubbing the head over his lips just to hear Hux keep trying to suppress his noises. He moans low in his throat when Poe sucks the tip in, but doesn’t break eye contact. Poe wants to see what he’ll do; if he’ll take over or if he’ll let Poe set the pace.

Hux seems content to have Poe lead, though. He lets Poe hold his hips back and splays his long fingers prettily against the silver wall, his gaze heavy where it rests on Poe.

Poe swallows him down and sucks hard, hollowing his cheeks. He moves his head back and forth, not rushing it. He enjoys, if nothing else, how desperately Hux is trying to keep his reactions in check.

He lets Hux’s dick hit the back of his throat once, briefly, and hears him gasp loudly. He does it again and this time feels Hux shudder and come in his mouth. Without warning him. Poe’s not happy about it, but whatever.

“Thank you,” Hux says shakily, entirely too fucked out from what Poe can admit was actually a subpar blowjob. Definitely not his best effort. “That was really, very good.”

“Great,” Poe says, standing up. “We can start working on de-escalating your evil plans now.”

“Okay,” Hux says, still sounding out of it.

“I want you to get rid of High Command.” That’s Poe’s first demand. He thought about it and while there are more immediate causes he could’ve focused on, this one will make things easier long-term. The last thing he needs is to have Hux surrounded by warmongering tyrants who don’t have a vested interest in listening to Poe and who will definitely object to his very presence, not to mention this arrangement.

"Consider it done. What else?" Hux says from behind his desk. His office is exactly what Poe expected, not a splash of color in sight. You can’t say they don’t commit to their aesthetic.

Poe frowns. He wishes he knew Hux better, at least enough to be able to tell when he’s lying. “Just like that?”

“Aren’t those the terms of the deal? A give and take?”

“I will expect you to deliver.” The terms and conditions are all going on an official document, which Hux will sign. A part of Poe expected something else, something more inherently sexually debasing. Hux is a bureaucrat through and through, though.

“And I will. I have no use for them, anyway. I only keep them around for the pleasure I derive from humiliating them. I don’t trust them to handle anything. I was planning on killing them when that got boring. We’ll just move up the timetable to accommodate your demands.”

Poe frowns. These are Hux’s own people. “Wait, I’m not asking you to kill them.”

“It’s what’s most effective. Don’t concern yourself with the details,” Hux says dismissively.

“Hux, the idea is for you to stop killing people.”

“Completely?” Hux doesn’t sound pleased with that, so Poe decides to stay away from that conversational path. “I’ll trade you for it,” he says casually. “I’ll spare someone else, to be determined by you, at a later date.”

It’s so disturbing how he treats lives and people as completely disposable. Living and breathing for another day, depending on his whims.

“No, Hux.” It sets a bad precedent if Poe lets him do this.

Hux leans forward and places his interlaced fingers on the desk separating them. “Why do you care? You don’t know them. You wouldn’t like them and they certainly wouldn’t like you. These are horrible people,” Hux says, completely lacking in self-awareness.

“I trust you’ll be able to find a non-murderous solution.”

“Very well. I’ll come up with a _creative_ solution,” he says with barely restrained glee. “Next item on the list.”

Fuck. Poe’s gonna have to get used to navigating and spotting all his conversational traps. “Wait, who will you replace them with?”

“No one. I have been taking care of all their customary tasks. As I said, I was keeping them around for my amusement.”

That level of micromanaging can’t be healthy. No wonder he looks so terrible.

After the meeting, Poe comes out with a clearer understanding of how their arrangement will work. He almost expects to find twenty minutes set aside on his calendar for daily scheduled blowjobs and is disappointed to check his datapad and realize that’s not the case. Hux talks about Poe’s end of the deal only in the vaguest of terms. Even when it’s just the two of them, he refuses to go into any kind of specifics. Poe doesn’t see his reasoning, but he’s not accustomed to dealing with genocidal megalomaniacs. That will soon change, though.

“I have to make an appointment to see you?” Poe waited for three hours, just to get fifteen minutes of Hux’s time. He has presumably not left the throne room these past few days.

“Yes, it’s protocol. _Everyone_ must request an audience in advance.”

“Is _everyone_ sucking your dick?” he asks, deliberately crude to better illustrate his point.

Hux falters for a moment before continuing, “I take it you’d like special treatment.”

“Yes, and this would be a start.”

“I do have matters to attend to that don’t involve or concern you.”

“I think I would like to be the judge of that.”

Hux sighs and glares at him. “What did you wish to discuss?”

He walks up to Hux and perches on the throne’s armrest. He could easily choose to sit down next to him with how extravagant in size it is, though. “I want us to discuss the arrangement.”

Hux huffs out an annoyed breath. “We have—”

“My side of the arrangement. I don’t want to be blindsided by you wanting to fuck me on the bridge.” Poe hopes he’s not giving Hux ideas.

“All our activities will remain confined to the bedroom.”

“That is, your bedroom? Not mine and not here?”

The effect Poe’s words have is immediate. Hux flushes and parts his lips, visibly swallows, and looks at Poe with such naked lust that Poe assumes he’ll want to fuck immediately. He looks away and visibly gets himself under control before saying, “your rooms will be off-limits. Was that all?”

“No, I wanna know exactly what you expect from me and what I should expect from you.”

“Fidelity,” Hux says firmly and without missing a beat. “You’re not to — share your time with anyone else.”

Poe wasn’t planning on fucking around on the guy, anyway. “What else?”

“My reasons for requesting your company will be unquestioned. As will my motivations for whatever non-sexual activity we engage in.”

When it comes to sex, Poe’s consent must be unwavering, he assumes, so he’s not gonna bother getting into that. “What kind of activities did you have in mind?”

“Generally spending time together, dining together, talking. Things that people regularly do.”

Poe frowns. “Do you mean couples?”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” he says defensively.

Right, Poe’s not supposed to question him. “Anything else?”

“No, we can amend the terms as situations arise, as long as we’re both in agreement.”

“Fair enough. Want a quickie before I leave?” When Hux scowls at him, Poe shrugs. “I’ll see you when I see you, then.”

The thing is, he _doesn’t_ get to see him. Poe doesn’t want to seem clingy, but he is close to telling Hux, _you spend all your time working! I never get to see you!_ It’s not like Poe wants them spending time together, but he wants Hux working overtime in new and creative ways to be a tyrant even less, so sacrifices have to be made.

There seem to be a million conference rooms, but after a lot of wandering Poe finds the correct one. He interrupts Hux’s scheming meeting and says, “sorry, folks, we need the room.”

Everyone turns to look at Hux, sitting at the head of the table with two guards behind him but when he nods, they all start to walk out, giving Poe curious looks. He doesn’t care that it looks exactly how it is.

Poe waits until Hux dismisses the troopers, which he does with an aggravated, longsuffering sigh. “This better be important. You don’t get to—”

“Come here,” he says, pulling him out of his chair and backing him into the hard surface of the transparisteel table until Poe can comfortably stand between his legs. Hux never mentioned anything about meeting rooms being off-limits. “You need to work less. What happened to spending time together?” He rubs his palm firmly over Hux’s already hard dick.

“I have to—” he pants.

“Take out your dick for me.” There must be a trick to it, because what Poe spent several minutes on the last time, Hux does in record time. Poe varies his grip to get a feel for how Hux likes it until he basically has Hux’s dick in a vise-grip and Hux moans, loudly. No plausible deniability there. “I can’t have you in here plotting nonstop, because then you’re not giving me a chance to catch up. Is that your goal?”

“We agreed on de-escalating, not—” he cuts himself off with a groan.

“Why don’t you tell me what you were working on in here?” He’s mostly testing Hux, seeing what Hux will let him get away with, how far he can push him, if he expects Poe to act deferential or if he’s receptive to a more ‘take charge’ approach. Poe can work with either, but he needs confirmation.

“That’s classified. You’re not—”

“You know, both of us can be withholding,” Poe says, squeezing his dick meaningfully.

Hux glares at him and grabs his wrist and Poe worries for a second that he took it too far. He’s ready to walk it back and make amends on his knees, but Hux says, “it was a budgetary meeting. You’re welcome to go through the report, but I’m afraid you’ll find it lacking in opportunities for you to perform your usual heroics.”

Hux sounds way too put together and Poe needs to remedy that. “I wouldn’t be so sure, I can be pretty creative,” he says, moving his hand again.

Hux enjoys the attention. Probably because no one’s given it to him before. It’s a little surprising. Sure, the guy’s a genuinely horrible person, but in the Order, Poe figured that would be a draw. Under the right light, he looks really good. He looks particularly good spread out on the dark sheets of his bed, flushed and panting at the ceiling while Poe sits on top of him and works his dick.

“You need to withdraw your troops from Ozoin.”

“What.”

Poe stops his movements and when Hux lifts his hips, he squeezes the base of his dick. “You need to withdraw your troops from Ozoin.”

“If I do, there will be unrest,” he says breathlessly.

“Because they don’t want to be subjugated under your rule, Hux.”

“They don’t know what’s good for them. They need someone to tell them what—”

“I think _you_ need someone to tell you what you need, but you’re not very good at listening, are you?”

“I can’t—”

“Suit yourself,” Poe says and makes to move away from Hux. If he’s not going to play nice, then Poe won’t either.

“Wait, wait,” Hux says, grabbing his hips and keeping him in place.

“Will you do it?”

“ _Yes._ “

“When?” Poe asks, moving his fist again.

“Within the next 3 standard weeks.”

“Okay, but I’m not getting you off until then.”

“I’ll do it as soon as it’s logistically possible,” Hux gasps.

That’s more like it.

Rey comes back.

“That’s great. How is she? Did she come back with—?”

“No, but she says he found balance, inner peace before the end. She’s exhausted but mostly okay. She needs time to readjust,” Finn says.

“I told you she’d come back.” Poe is in his room. It feels much warmer with Finn’s presence, even light-years away. He’s alone, but he knows this is just the illusion of privacy.

“When are _you_ coming back?”

Poe won’t even let think himself that. “Finn. Buddy.”

“When can we see you?”

“You’re seeing me right now.” At Finn’s unimpressed look, he adds, “you wanna come to visit? I’ll — I’ll ask.” He misses Finn, but he feels uneasy bringing him into his new life.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He’s not thinking about it, which is the same thing. “How’s the situation in Keupra?”

“They’re no longer under First Order occupation.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. Hux always comes through, but Poe would be stupid to trust him. Before he can reply, Finn adds, “We went on a mission. Rose, Jessika, and I. We found an entire squad of troopers. Defecting troopers. They had been living in exile for months. Hiding from the Order after they defied orders and refused to fire on innocent civilians.”

“Are they with you now? They went back with you guys?” Poe tries to picture the base in all his conversations with Finn, afraid and unwilling to let the details become less vivid.

“Yeah, it took some convincing, though. They are understandably not very trusting, but — they knew about me,” he says with a note of almost wonder.

“They were inspired by you,” Poe says, feeling fond and proud. It’s accompanied by a deep pang of regret that he’s here and not there with people who are genuinely trying to do better. “Do they know if there are more like them?”

“Who have defected? We have no way of knowing, but who want to defect? Yes.”

“I’ll see if there’s anything I can do.”

“I think you should relax your reconditioning policies _considerably_ ," Poe tells him next time they’re in Hux’s rooms. The usual severe lightning turned down to an almost cozy and inviting level. He’s sitting on top of Hux, moving his hips in a slow back and forth and up and down, letting Hux’s dick rub over the curve of his ass. Hux hasn’t demanded to fuck him, hasn’t asked or even hinted at it, though Poe can tell he desperately wants to. Poe’s not going to offer either. He’ll offer when he has a big ask.

“Can’t this wait?” Hux thrusts up, graceless and careless as usual, and throws Poe’s rhythm off.

“No, let’s do this now. I’ve been talking to people and there is a general perception that First Order leadership has become overzealous with its reconditioning policies,” Poe says patiently. Less patience than it took to get people to talk to him. Everyone seems to be under the impression that he’s a double agent or a triple agent.

Hux props himself up on his elbows and stills Poe’s movements, looking more interested in retribution than fucking. Not good. “Who told you this? Who have you been talking to?”

“What? So you can send _them_ to reconditioning? I’m not going to tattle.”

“They’re committing treason. You are enabling and encouraging them to do so.” He sits up and pushes Poe off his lap, vacating the bed altogether.

_More tact,_ Poe tells himself. “They are loyal to you, but you have to allow some room for dissent.” Poe sits on the edge of the bed, not wanting to crowd Hux but knowing he can’t let him leave yet.

“I know what ‘room for dissent’ looks like and leads to.” Hux’s whole demeanor is cold but when Poe reaches for him, keeps him standing between his legs, his skin is pleasantly warm.

“So you’re just modeling yourself after your predecessors?”

Hux tenses even further and tries to dislocate Poe’s grip on his hips. “Do not compare me—”

“I’m not, you are. You’re doing yourself a disservice too.”

“What exactly is your aim here?” he says evenly. It’s particularly impressive with his hard dick right in front of Poe’s face.

“You have people who are loyal to you, but it’s not them. You can’t recondition them into being loyal. You haven’t been able to.”

“We should cut our losses and stop wasting our resources on them, then.”

Poe pulls his hips closer, trying to maneuver Hux on top of him, but Hux resists. Clearly he needs to revise his approach here. “Why don’t you let them go? Dismiss them from service?” he says, working Hux’s dick again, making sure his touch doesn’t border on impersonal.

Hux braces himself on Poe’s shoulders, bent toward him a little. “That would be a massive security risk. They would have nowhere to go anyway. The Order provided them with—”

“But if they had somewhere to go, you would consider it?” This time when he pulls, Hux moves easily on top of him, his legs on either side of Poe’s hips.

“You want to take apart my army so you can build yours,” he pants.

Poe lets himself fall back on the bed and pulls Hux down with him, grabbing his ass to encourage his movements. “No one’s going to move against you. That would be stupid. I’m here. That’s proof of it. There’s no point in me being here if you’re going to be completely inflexible, though.”

Hux leans away to look at him but doesn’t still his movements. “I think it’s a little early in our relationship for ultimatums, don’t you think?”

Poe’s going to ignore that. Especially Hux referring to this as a ‘relationship.’ “Do we have a deal or not?”

“I can’t give you an answer without analyzing the situation further. If there is merit to—” Whatever he was going to say trails off into a low groan when Poe grips him tighter.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. _Yes_.”

“Can my friends come to visit?” Poe asks, lying in Hux’s bed. It’s not nicer than Poe’s but it’s warm from their bodies.

“Why?” Hux asks, suspicious as always. He’s putting his clothes back on. Easily, for all that Poe struggled to unwrap him.

“Because I want to see them. In person,” he adds when he can tell Hux is about to get pedantic.

“They’d have to come unarmed, though they’d still be checked for weapons before boarding. A trooper would have to be with you at all times.” Hux finishes with his multiple layers of clothing, including a protective vest, and turns around.

“At all times? Even if we’re not wandering the ship? No, I don’t want to have troopers in my rooms.”

“Fine, but they can only visit one at a time,” Hux says.

It’s so good to see Finn board the ship that he forgets whatever reservations he had about it. “How are you, bud?”

Finn grabs him by the shoulders and examines him. “You’re okay? You look—”

“Yeah, they’re allergic to colors here.” Poe can pull off the black-on-black look but he’d like a little variety. “But I’m fine, really. Come on.” Poe’s been miserably lonely, though. Everyone’s too terrified of Hux to talk to someone they see as having Hux's ear. So that leaves Hux, who’s all business all the time, and Beebee, who’s more independent by the second.

“This place gives me the creeps, man,” Finn says, looking around. Poe has been living here for weeks, he wonders if they see the same thing.

“No grand tour for you, then? Come on, let’s go to my rooms.”

On the threshold, Finn hesitates, looking uncomfortable for not the first and definitely not the last time. (He had paused in front of one of Poe’s guards, looking gut-punched, his features reflecting on their shiny visor.)

“He’s not in there,” Poe says.

Finn laughs awkwardly. “No, I know that.”

“He’s never even been in there.”

“Man, it’s fine. You don’t have to reassure me.” But he does look a little reassured.

Poe guesses knowing is very different from seeing.

After Finn’s visit, Hux is aloof. Undoubtedly displeased that there was a moment when he wasn’t monopolizing Poe’s time. He has no problem spending days on end ignoring Poe when he’s working, though.

Finally he says, “were you and your stormtrooper friend involved?”

Poe’s lying on Hux’s bed messaging his dad. Apparently he heard about Finn’s visit and wants to come too, but Poe would rather die before that happened. Since Hux has been pretending to be too busy to pay attention to him, Poe has also been ignoring him.

“My stormtrooper friend?” He’s friendly with his guards. As friendly as they can be considering they are terrified of offending Hux by talking to Poe or offending Hux by proxy by offending Poe.

“Finn,” Hux says awkwardly, stumbling a little on the name.

“Involved in what?”

“In a romantic or sexual relationship.”

Oh, is that what’s been bothering him? Poe almost laughs. The guy must’ve spent all these days believing that Poe and Finn were fucking right under his nose, while locked in Poe’s rooms. He probably came up with more and more outlandish scenarios each time in order to feed his wounded pride.

“Nope, we’re just friends. He and Rey are together if that serves to further reassure you.” Poe saw it coming but he was delighted to hear Finn confirm it when he visited.

Hux nods to himself absently, but there’s still something troubling his features. “Were you involved with someone when you came here?”

It’s been a couple of months and he’s asking this now? Poe sits up on the bed. “Jealousy is not a good look on you. Even if I had been involved with someone, it’s none of your business. I know our arrangement carries an expectation of exclusivity, at least on my end, but you can’t retroactively apply that to my sex life.”

“I know.”

“I have fucked people before you and you are benefitting from that experience. You wouldn’t want me fumbling on your dick,” Poe says.

“I haven’t.” When Poe just looks at him, he adds, “I haven’t fucked anyone else.”

“Is this a lack of opportunity kind of thing or can I expect exclusivity from you?” Poe didn’t think Hux had been fucking around. When would he have found the time? He’s happy to further level the playing field in this one small way, though.

“The latter. It applies to both of us. What I meant was, outside of us. I haven’t fucked anyone else, ever.”

Poe suspected that already. “That’s okay. You’re a fast learner,” he says and pulls him close.

Poe is bored all the time, even with Beebee around to entertain himself with. He’s not used to just sitting idle for hours on end.

He goes by the throne room but Hux isn’t there. He’s in his considerably less opulent office. It fits him better than the throne. All clean, neatly organized, cold surfaces. It's more like him and less like he's playing dress-up.

“I want a TIE,” Poe says.

Hux leans back on his chair. “Are you looking to see combat?” he asks, frowning.

“No, I just want out of here, for a little while.”

Hux goes rigid. “No.”

“You won’t even consider it?” Poe realizes he’s not used to getting uncompromising refusals from Hux.

“I considered it. I’m saying no,” Hux says and goes back to his datapad. It’s clearly a dismissal.

“I’m bored, waiting around all day doing nothing, waiting for you to want me to play with your dick.”

Hux goes a little pink around his face and the reaction draws Poe subconsciously closer. “I can have someone fly you and escort you to where you want to go.”

“That’s not what I want. I want to fly.”

“The answer is no. We can find some other way for you to entertain yourself,” Hux says calmly.

“I won’t fuck you, then.” Poe knows there’s danger in giving him another ultimatum, but he’s frustrated and Hux’s calm demeanor is only making it worse.

Hux clenches his jaw but says, “that’s alright. The answer is still no.”

It’s not what Poe expected. The guy is, after all, willing to give up entire star systems to get his dick wet. This is where he draws the line?

A few days later, he is summoned to the throne room.

“I have reconsidered your demand,” Hux says formally. “I think it would be good for you to visit the planets we have withdrawn from, at your request. You can help them deal with the aftermath; the chaos and disorder they are encountering in our absence. You are welcome to have your friends assist you in these endeavors.”

“Really?”

“You will, of course, be accompanied at all times by a small group of stormtroopers and you’ll have to wear this,” Hux says, picking up a thin black strap with a small panel on one side.

“Is that a tracking monitor?” Poe squints at it but Hux keeps it out of reach.

“Yes. These terms are non-negotiable. Do you accept?”

Poe thinks about it. There’s a give and take to his relationship with Hux. He shouldn’t push his luck on this. “Fine, yeah.”

“Your flight trajectory is keyed into the device. Don’t take any detours or it will cause you pain. Likewise, do not try to remove it; it is locked to my genetic sequence. I’ll remove it when you get back,” Hux says.

“Are you letting me fly us there?”

“Yes.”

Poe stops himself right before he says ‘thank you.’ He’s not going to show him gratitude. At least not with his words. He walks up to the dais and stands between Hux’s legs. When he leans down, Hux grabs his hips and pushes him to sit on the throne while he awkwardly maneuvers himself to his knees.

He unzips Poe and rests his panting mouth against his underwear for a moment, before getting Poe’s dick out.

Hux’s not very good at this, but he’s enthusiastic and eager to improve. Poe’s happy to let him practice. Hux can’t get all of him in his mouth and he wraps his hand around the base to make up for it. His lips meeting his hand again and again.

Poe is torn between closing his eyes and focusing on the sensations or keeping them open and focusing on how hot Hux looks like this. He wants to pull his hair and fuck his face. Maybe one day Hux will admit he wants that too.

Hux pulls off and licks his lips, not stopping the movement of his hand in the meantime. When he goes back down, he starts to slowly take more of Poe’s dick inside his mouth, removing one finger at a time until his lips touch the base. There’s an all too brief second of tight, wet heat before he has to pull off quickly to cough. But it’s enough to make Poe come, getting some of it accidentally on Hux’s cheek.

“Sorry,” Poe says and pulls him up into his lap.

Hux grimaces and when Poe licks his face, he says, “that’s disgusting.”

“No, that was really, really hot.”

Hux probably thinks that visiting these planets will show him that the Order was right to occupy them because they are evidently lost without its support now. If anything, it shows that the Order left them off worse than they were because their one-size-fits-all approach is actively harmful, at best.

He meets Finn and Rey there, the planet’s warm purple sun glowing beyond the treeline, casting them in an ethereal shadow. Finn examines him from head to toe before hugging him, as usual. Rey hugs him and through the Force asks him, _are you safe? Tell me if you need to get out_ , also as usual.

“Do you really think you’ll get him to give it all up?” asks Rey when it’s just the two of them. Finn’s further ahead talking to some locals.

Short answer: no, but he can’t make himself verbalize that. “Maybe? One day. If not, then I’m hoping that he doesn’t realize how much he’s giving up and we can move against him.”

“You’re not planning on coming back, are you?” she asks.

Poe smiles sadly. “Don’t tell Finn.”

“I think he already knows, Poe.”

“What do you think, has it been worth it? So far, has it been worth it?" Poe can feel an edge of desperation creep into his words and tries to tamp it dow. "I can’t tell. I have no distance from this thing. I feel like I’m just convincing myself it has because I can’t live with the alternative.”

“I can’t put a value on your freedom. I can’t. I can’t imagine—”

“Guys, come on,” says Finn.

“If it becomes unbearable,” she says urgently. “When I visit I can— he’s just one man, just get me close to him and I’ll—”

“No, that’s— no, I got this.”

“Any specific requests for me to pass along to Hux?” he asks them before leaving.

Finn and Rey look at each other and awkwardly shift in place. It’s what he’s going back for. No need to get awkward about it. “I want a detailed, itemized list next time I call,” Poe says, hugging them goodbye.

He makes himself let go and not look out the viewport once he’s on the shuttle.

Hux kneels before him in front of the tall bed, his knees against the smooth black surface of the floor, and slowly lifts his pant leg. He fits his index finger between the strap of the tracker and Poe’s skin and looks up at him. Poe wants it off already, but maybe not as much as he wants to keep Hux kneeling in front of him.

Hux finally places his finger on the screen and removes it, throwing it behind him carelessly. He presses himself closer and nuzzles forward to rub his cheek against Poe’s cock. He looks hot for it; an appealing flush disappearing under his collar, his lips parted, his pupils dilated. Poe lies down on Hux’s bed and lets Hux unlace his pants and mouth his dick over his underwear.

Hux moans loudly when he wraps his lips around him, the vibrations sending pleasure up Poe’s spine.

Hux is usually methodical when he does this, probably not confident enough in his abilities to try different things. Now though, he sucks Poe off sloppy and uncoordinated, drooling on him.

Poe puts a hand on the back of his head and grabs a fistful of hair to keep him in place while Poe slowly thrusts inside his mouth. He’s careful to keep his movements shallow and not choke him or give him more than he can take.

Hux moves a hand downward and Poe can tell he’s touching himself by the way his eyes flutter shut and he moans low in his throat. Poe loves him like this. “Can I come on your face?” He’s been wanting to since he accidentally kinda did it in the throne room, but he wants Hux to want it enough to _let_ Poe do it.

Hux nods and hums around his dick before Poe uses his grip to pull him off. He keeps Hux’s head in place, not wanting Hux to move (if he accidentally gets come on his hair, Poe won’t hear the end of it) and jerks himself off while staring at him, his flushed face, his red lips. Poe groans and watches as Hux lets out an almost surprised gasp when the first stripes hit his face.

He lets go of Hux and watches as he licks his lips and then presses his fingers over his cheek, where it almost got in his eye, and grimaces. Poe pulls him up on top of him and sucks Hux’s fingers into his mouth. “You’re perfect,” he tells him, not knowing how much he means it.

He starts spending every other night in Hux’s rooms. Not even fucking most of the time, because Hux is too weird to ever initiate anything.

He doesn’t move in, though. That’d definitely be more Hux than he’s willing to put up with, but he enjoys waking up curled around his body. He enjoys seeing him slowly wake up and he enjoys how relaxed and pliant he is under his hands, none of the usual overthinking that keeps him from being able to let go.

Hux sighs. “More.”

The room is dark even though it’s early morning. The lights control set to a dim, faint glow that enshrouds the place in an almost unbearable intimacy. He can perfectly make out Hux and his features by their proximity but he lets himself be guided by his sounds.

“Okay,” Poe says, adding a fourth finger. Hux must be feeling the stretch by now, but he just moans louder and pushes back. “You like that? You like how good I make you feel?”

“Yes, _yes._ “

“I’m going to get you nice and loose before I fuck you. And then I’m going to _really_ fuck you, 'cause I’m the only one who gets to do it. You’ll be feeling it for days,” Poe says absentmindedly. He wants to do it, sure. And he’s hard and wants to get off, but he knows it’s not happening so there’s no point in getting invested. Soon enough Poe is going to say or do something that trips up one of Hux’s sexual hangups about what he should or shouldn’t enjoy and they will both be left sexually frustrated.

“Yes, do it. Do it.” Hux reaches back for Poe and spreads his legs wider.

“Uhh, are you sure?” Poe asks doubtfully.

“Yes, I want you in me.”

Poe stalls, giving Hux time to change his mind, but he seems committed. Maybe he shouldn’t have stalled so much, because when he’s pouring lube on his dick there’s a chime from outside announcing the arrival of Hux’s assistant droid. Time to be Supreme Leader again.

Hux tenses all over and scurries away from the bed. Poe groans and flops back down. “Let me get you off, at least.”

“That’s alright,” he says, not looking at Poe.

Poe assumes he sleeps in the throne room that night. All he knows is that Hux doesn’t come to bed.

“Are you familiar with the Hosnia Legacy Group?” Poe asks. They’re having dinner together in the observation deck primarily for the view. The glowing stars illuminating not just the vast darkness of space but also them; giving the setting a far more intimate and romantic ambiance than it deserves.

“Get to the point.”

“They’re an organization that focuses on helping the surviving relatives of the Hosnian cataclysm victims and I would like you to aid their cause.” Poe reaches for his drink and watches Hux over the rim.

“Very well. How much would you like me to donate?” Hux has learned to pick his battles, which is something Poe appreciates but also takes as an invitation to routinely escalate his demands.

“Well, it’s not just about donating. I would like you to endorse them by throwing a benefit gala to raise funds for their efforts. I also want to work with them to figure out other ways you could help.”

“No. To all of that.” Hux says firmly.

“Why not?” Poe already knows, though. Hux doesn’t want to inconvenience himself.

"I don't like the optics of it. I'm either trying to pathetically make amends or trying to revisit the scene of the crime for my personal gratification. I did what had to be done. As a personal accomplishment, I don't regret it, but I am uninterested in revisiting it."

When Poe first decided to do this he imagined he would spend a lot of time on his knees and on his back for Hux. He didn’t imagine most of his time would be spent playing ‘doting partner’ to him. The cocksucking would’ve definitely been easier and sometimes he thinks, preferable.

He knows just what he has to offer and it’s not even sex. It’s something far worse and far more irresistible to Hux. “If you organize this gala, you know I will be there with you, right? I’ll be by your side.”

“Will you?” Hux leans forward almost imperceptibly before catching himself and putting on his disinterested act. It’s not as good as he thinks and it definitely doesn’t fool Poe.

He doesn’t feel humiliated or debased after they have sex. Or because they had sex, to begin with. Maybe he should, but he doesn’t and he doesn’t see the point in making himself feel miserable about a situation that has no end in sight.

He definitely feels debased playing the part of loving boyfriend at the gala. It was his suggestion so he can’t exactly blame it on someone else, but it doesn’t stop him from getting angry at Hux and at himself. It’s not an ostentatious or opulent affair; the mood is serious and almost somber. Not enough time has passed for anyone to get any distance from the tragedy. Poe’s not sure there is a long enough period of time that could be used as an expiration date on such tremendous grief.

He’s annoyed that Hux is brazen and insensitive enough to be trying to sell their arrangement as something it is most definitely _not_ on such an occasion. He keeps Poe close to his side, hovers his hand over his back, and stares at him, intently and transparently. It feels, at times, as if Hux is getting something more from the deal than what Poe is offering.

As soon as they’re back home, behind closed doors, Hux is on him. He bites and kisses Poe’s neck in a desperate and decidedly unsexy way. Less ‘my passionate boyfriend’ and more ‘this savage animal that followed me home.’ It’s so unlike Hux that Poe doesn’t react for the first couple of seconds, lets himself be pushed against the wall instead.

There’s some euphoric frenzy to Hux’s movements. Some vibrant energy that transforms from offputting to contagious when Hux drops to his knees and rubs his face all over the front of his pants.

He knots his fingers into Hux’s hair and unthinkingly pulls. When Hux lets him, he thrusts his hips forward against his face and hears him moan.

Hux unsteadily stands up and starts shedding his clothes without his usual care. “Get undressed,” he says.

Poe considers saying no because he feels he's done enough for one evening. He thinks he can get away with it, but there’s something appealing about Hux like this. Poe sees no reason to deny _himself_.

Hux pushes him down on the bed, the soft dark sheets warming under their weight, and says, “fuck me. You can do it this time.”

Poe rolls them over and wastes no time. He learned his lesson and he’s not going to stall. After two fingers, Hux starts panting, “I’m ready. I’m ready. Do it.”

Poe lines up and starts pushing, trying to pace himself, slow them both down. He guides himself by Hux’s reactions, the way his body gives him away. It’s all painfully familiar to Poe now; the way Hux tries to suppress his tells. Poe has spent months learning him, though; Hux has no chance of succeeding.

When he’s buried all the way inside Hux’s body, he pauses, against his body’s wishes, and gives Hux a minute to adjust. He has a weird out-body-experience for a moment where he can’t believe he’s doing _this_ or that _he’s_ doing this.

The expression on Hux’s face is open and vulnerable, almost surprised. Poe’s convinced he’s going to be told to stop any moment now, but Hux just spurs him on, tells him to _do it_. He places one of Hux’s legs over his shoulder and starts moving, probably less carefully than he should. He fucks him hard and fast, encouraged by the noises he makes. Hux is uncharacteristically uninhibited for once.

The fucking is not enough for Hux though, who wants _the personal touch_. “Tell me you want this.”

“You know I do. I’ve put a lot of time trying to figure out what you like. How to give it to you just how you want it.” It’s not a lie, but maybe Poe wouldn’t be so willing to admit it outside this moment.

Hux pants. “Tell me you want me.”

Hux is going to have so many regrets tomorrow, Poe thinks. It’s not his problem, Hux is choosing to do this, which is what he will undoubtedly have the most trouble dealing with.

“I do, all the time.” Poe gets angry at him and he hates him and he still wants to fuck him. “I love seeing you like this. You take it so well. You’re so tight and you feel so good. You sound—” As if on cue, Hux moans loudly. “You wanna get on top for a little bit? I wanna see you ride it.”

They maneuver on the bed a little awkwardly, made clumsy with their impatience, until Hux is in his lap.

Hux starts sliding down slowly and then sinks down all at once, clawing at Poe’s chest. “It’s okay, just like that,” Poe says moving his hands toward his hips. It’s so unbelievably good, _for both of them_ , that it’s a real shame Hux is going to be weird about it in the morning.

The up and down of Hux’s body is mesmerizing, but his rhythm is ultimately too uncoordinated to be satisfying. Poe rolls them over again and moves Hux to his front, takes him from behind this time. He kisses the long pale expanse of his back and enjoys the way Hux pushes back into his thrusts. He wishes they could always be like this; undeniably in sync and working toward a common interest. “Touch yourself. Come on. Let go.”

He feels Hux shift under him and after a moment hears him coming, feels the unbearable tight clench of his body around Poe’s cock and fucks him through the aftershocks, hearing Hux make _ah ah_ noises, too over sensitized now to properly enjoy the drag of Poe’s cock inside him. He pulls out and finishes himself off with his hand, coming over Hux’s ass and the small of his back.

Poe probably should’ve asked him if he could do that. “Sorry,” he says, struggling to catch his breath.

“It’s fine,” Hux says and promptly passes out.

Hux is predictably distant the next morning. And the rest of the week. He stays away for thirteen days, his exercise in self-denial frustrating Poe to no end.

They’re welcoming ambassadors from Vudromia. A place willingly and happily under the Order’s rule. They were supposedly so desperate to have their former ruler dealt with that they were willing to swear unwavering loyalty to Hux. It’s apparently been a beneficial agreement for everyone involved so Poe stays out of it. It makes Poe distinctly uncomfortable watching people blatantly ingratiate themselves to Hux, though.

Not more than it does having people talk about his ‘partner Supreme Leader Hux’ and how wonderful and generous he apparently is and could Poe put in a good word for them? He’s tempted to tell them to fuck off, that he’s just a pretty face and has no say on Hux’s decisions. It would be doing them both a disservice, though.

“You want me to be involved in peace talks?” Hux asks looking distinctly horrified. Poe loves the way he says ‘peace.’ Like a new disgusting word he just learned.

“I want you to lead them, yes.” Poe doesn’t feel strange about having these conversations in bed. It’s fitting, after all. Hux is sitting across from him by the foot of the bed, Poe’s feet resting on his lap. It’s all very domestic.

“I thought you wanted me to take on fewer things. Be less ‘hands-on,’ I believe you said.” Hux is still annoyed about that. Unbelievable.

“About your paranoid micromanaging. This is different. This will also teach you a valuable lesson.”

Hux glares but keeps slowly tracing over the bones of his ankles. “What lesson is that?”

“That when you place yourself in a position of authority over someone you have a certain level of responsibility toward them, as well. If you’re not using your title of Supreme Leader for this, then what good is it for?” _Other than for you to smear your insecurities all over the place?_ Poe refrains from adding.

“It’s not for getting involved in petty disputes.”

“It’s not—”

“Local politics, whatever you call them,” Hux says.

“You would get involved if it were affecting the resources the Order gets from them.”

“Obviously. That’s different. And you’re forgetting that maintaining control of the Order’s resources is how I keep you in the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.”

_You mean maintaining control of the galaxy is how you get to keep me_ , Poe thinks bitterly. “Hux, you will do this.”

“I thought you believed the First Order’s involvement unfailingly made every situation worse. What happened to your noninterventionist policy?”

“I said that the Order should decide its involvement on a case by case basis and not apply wholesale solutions while ignoring the specifics.” Poe has patiently explained this before and doesn’t appreciate Hux playing stupid to win an argument.

“Well, it’s you that’s deciding. Not the Order.”

“Could I trust you to behave like companionate and empathetic beings?” When Hux rolls his eyes, he continues, “I hate to say it, but I do think there are some places that the Order could help. It would require you to engage with them on an individual level, though. Look past what they can give you. Strong arming people into doing what you want because you know best is not a successful long-term strategy and you know this.”

“We should focus on their needs, you mean.”

“Look at the people in Vudromia, happily pledging their loyalty to you. That’s what you want. Subjugation will only allow resentment to grow and fester. You don’t want them counting down the minutes until they can get out from under you. What do they need from the Order? You have them fending off for themselves.”

“I believe it has been a productive and mutually beneficial partnership,” Hux says, looking far more troubled than this conversation demands.

“It’s not a partnership. They are more than what they can offer you. You want them happily on your side,” Poe explains.

“Could they ever be?”

“What?”

Hux shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll do it.”

The first few days without Hux on board are great. He particularly enjoys Finn’s relieved expression when he comes to visit. The knowledge that Hux’s presence won’t loom over them already an improvement on their previous visits.

“How do you know he’s not going to have both parties killed and install one of his puppet politicians if they inconvenience him too much?” Finn asks. He looked around the senior officer’s lounge when they first walked in with a mixture of disgust and awe. His eyes went to the ostentatious bar and the awkwardly designed relaxation area. Finally landing on the luxurious seats that faced the wide viewport. _We were never allowed here_ , he muttered.

“Hux said he would act in good faith. I trust him,” he says distractedly.

Finn frowns at him. “You trust him?”

“No, no. What I meant was that I trust him to keep his word. This time.”

“Because he promised?” When Poe flounders for something to say, Finn just looks at him for a long moment. “Okay. I just don’t get how your relationship works, man.”

_He fucks me and then I tell him what to do,_ he doesn’t say. It’s an accurate if not comprehensive assessment of their relationship. It’s not how Hux would want their relationship portrayed, though that’s not what stops Poe from saying it. “It just works.”

“I still wish you hadn’t been forced to do this.”

“No one forced me.”

“Our lack of better options did.” Finn’s right, but Poe doesn’t think about it like that. He’s done worse for less. He doesn’t spend every day trying to convince himself it’s worth it, either. It evidently is.

By the sixth day, he starts noticing Hux’s absence. He doesn’t miss _him_ , but he misses their routine. It makes him hate not just Hux but also himself.

His bed is cold and he has all his meals alone. Even arguing with Hux is better than eating surrounded by people who bow when they see him. He doesn’t know what Hux told them to have them do that, though he probably didn’t have to give them a reason. Do as I say — but unfortunately — not as I do. Poe would like to see Hux bowing for him.

He hasn’t told Hux to have them stop because Hux’s ego is something to be carefully navigated. He knows Hux finds the terms of their agreement personally debasing, so if he needs to publicly pretend their relationship is something it’s not, then Poe will accept it, though he won’t be happy about it.

Everyone already thinks Poe spends all their time together on his knees, anyway, who cares if they think he’s doing it out of love? Maybe it’s even good for them, he reasons. It’ll normalize relationships and non-murderous emotions to see their Supreme Leader in love, because at least Hux has the decency to pretend it’s mutual and not that his dick is so good that Poe’s falling all over himself to please him. That would be a step too far, even if Hux’s dick is one of Poe’s favorite things about him. Considering his personality, that might not be saying much.

They inform him that Hux has been injured. Nonfatally, they reassure him. He’s fine and on his way back now. When Poe breathes, his chest hurts for a second. He’s just disappointed it wasn’t fatal.

“What happened?” Poe considered waiting for him in the hangar, but realized that the true love act is completely on Hux and Poe doesn’t have to stick to his script. He gets tired of wondering what non-fatal might entail, though, so he stops by the medbay. Everyone bowing and making way for him, helpfully pointing the way.

Hux sits perfectly still while a droid applies bacta cream to his face. He has a bandage on his forearm. In other words, he’s absolutely okay.

“A third party was intent on sabotaging the peace talks. They didn’t even want to kill me, not really.” He sounds almost disappointed. “They just wanted to stop them from reaching an agreement no matter the cost.”

“Why?”

“Short term financial gain,” Hux says derisively. Probably offended by their lack of future-oriented planning. “They had a vested interest in the continued militarization of both border areas, seeing as they were providing weaponry for both sides. A bilateral and definite ceasefire was not in their best interest.”

When the droid leaves, Poe unthinkingly reaches out to touch the lesion over Hux’s left eye. Hux flinches back and doesn’t let him make contact.

“I wasn’t—”

“I know. It’s alright." He seems to be mostly convincing himself. Hux grabs his hand and places it over his wound, holds it there. Hux rarely touches him outside of fucking. Even when they’re fucking, he’s weird about it.

“Did you kill the people responsible for it?” Poe asks.

“No.”

“You didn’t catch them?”

“We did. They’ve been detained. They’ll get a trial,” Hux says staring at Poe’s mouth.

“Really?”

“A _fair_ trial,” Hux adds. When Poe brings their faces closer together, he breathes against his lips, “despite the setback, we managed to reach an agreement both parties were happy with.”

Poe closes the distance and wonders for a second why they haven’t done this before. He cards his fingers through Hux’s hair, wanting to muss it, wanting to leave him looking truly fucked out.

He kisses him deeply and wetly. Their lips pressing and releasing over and over again. Before long, the kiss gets heated and Poe wonders how much Hux will let him get away with, without a triple-locked door to keep the galaxy at bay.

He places his hand over Hux’s belt and when he doesn’t stop him he moves it lower. He’s hard against Poe’s palm. “Will you let me?” Poe asks against his mouth, already undoing his pants one-handed. Undressing him comes naturally to Poe now; he’s done it dozens of times before.

Hux nods and lets his pants and underwear pool around his ankles. Poe follows their descent and gets to his knees.

When Poe wraps his lips around him, Hux snaps his hips forward. Poe moans around his cock, looking intently at him as he takes him further and further into his mouth until he hits the back of his throat. He pulls off and says, “fuck my mouth. Come on.”

Hux hesitantly thrusts forward and Poe pushes him away. “You can do better than that.” He wants Hux wrecked and out of control, undeniably alive under his hands.

Hux moves faster, deeper; hitting the back of his throat every other thrust. He holds Poe’s head in place with his fingers tangled in his hair. It’s good and Poe loves every second of it. He only gets a moment to feel guilty about it before Hux pants, “I’m close. Do you want me to—?”

He moves his hands to Hux’s hips, to his ass, keeping him in place. After he swallows, he stays on his knees resting his forehead against Hux’s thigh. Whatever frantic energy had possessed him, subsiding.

Hux pulls him to his feet, his hands going to the front of Poe’s pants, and asks him, “what do you want me to do?”

For a moment Poe thinks he’s talking about their arrangement. He’s glad Hux isn’t; it’s the last thing on his mind and he wouldn’t know what to tell him.

Poe squints at the ceiling. He’s been staring at the bright overhead light for ages; his vision going blurry, instead of clearing.

“Who takes over if something happens to you?” Poe can’t stop thinking about it. It’s only one of the many undesired side effects Hux’s encounter with the wrong end of a blaster has brought.

Hux is resting his head against the solid black headboard, but he tenses and turns to look at him, suspicious. “Do you have designs on the throne? I’m afraid our union would have to be formalized in order for you to even be considered as a potential successor.”

“No, I was just wondering.”

“Wondering what?” Hux asks.

“Who I would have to deal with in that case.”

Hux frowns at him. After a moment he abandons their bed and leaves the room.

Hux keeps his distance after that. A couple of weeks go by where Poe rarely sees him and when he does, Hux is quiet, seemingly content with just staring at him when he thinks Poe isn’t looking.

Poe doesn’t know if he fucked up and offended him somehow or if Hux’s deeply ingrained issues are acting up again.

Poe is dozing off on Hux’s bed when he walks in. Hux pauses momentarily on the doorway but chooses to ignore him, for once doing a passable job of appearing unaffected by Poe’s presence.

“Do you want me to leave?” Poe asks.

“No, that’s alright. You are welcome here whenever you please.”

“Come here,” Poe says. He bites his lip and pats the space next to him on the bed, the soft sheets feeling cold under his hand. He’s making an actual effort to seduce him, but Hux doesn’t even look at him.

“I’m taking a shower,” he says.

Okay, that was probably a half-assed effort, but he’s used to Hux being easy. It annoys him beyond reason that’s he’s expected to deal with Hux’s random assortment of issues when Hux won’t even give him a hint about them.

Hux comes out of the refresher dressed for bed, his hair wet and falling in his eyes. He’s lucky Poe likes him like this. Poe turns on his side and traces the space between them when Hux gets in bed, willing Hux to come to him.

It doesn’t take long. Hux turns and moves his fingers over Poe’s side and then under his shirt, a careful back and forth. “You’re not ticklish?”

“No, are you?”

“I don’t know,” he says quietly. A fragile and tense sense of calm settling in the space between them.

“Do you want me to find out?”

Hux pushes him on his back and straddles him; touches Poe’s chest and his neck before breathing against his lips, not quite connecting. Poe closes the distance and they both sigh into the kiss. This is what Poe has gotten used to; this easy understanding where neither of them has to fight for what they want. They can trust each other to have it, to give it.

“Where were you?” Poe feels Hux tense and begin to withdraw, so he adds, “not ‘what were you doing?’ I meant, why did you stay away?”

“There were matters I needed to consider,” he says cryptically.

“Are you done now?”

“For now, I believe so.”

Hux leans back down, which Poe takes to mean he’s unwilling to volunteer any more information. They kiss languidly but it doesn’t go any further. This is what Hux likes: something that looks like love.

He convinces Hux to stay in bed all morning, not that he puts up much of a fight. Hux wants to be talked into the things he already wants but believes he shouldn’t.

He also likes to think Poe wants him that much, less quid pro quo and more kriffing true love. It’s not all bad. They have lazy morning sex, shower together, maneuver around Beebee, and have breakfast while browsing the holonet. Poe can see why Hux has an easy time deluding himself — it feels real.

“You mentioned some months ago that your dad wished to visit,” Hux says, a perfectly rigid military posture even across the breakfast table.

Poe cuts a bite of his ioaa hotcake, for once eating something that actually tastes like food, and pours a generous amount of carbosyrup on top. He doesn’t remember it being this sweet, but maybe he’s gotten unaccustomed to flavors.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I talked him out of that.” Poe misses him and wants to see him, but holoing is painful enough. The mere idea of having his dad on a star destroyer (the one Poe calls home) fills him with dread.

“Oh, I would have no problem with it. Arrangements could be made, if you wished. We could even negotiate the presence of guards,” Hux says, mostly toying with his food.

_How nice of him_ , Poe thinks. He hopes Hux doesn’t think of Poe’s dad as his father-in-law or some horrifying concept like that. “I don’t want him to come to visit, Hux.”

“Is he aware of—”

“Yeah, he knows. Imagine having that conversation with your dad,” Poe snaps. Hux never knows when to stop.

Hux looks suddenly vaguely nauseous. Hux’s dad (and anything that hints at him) is a sensitive topic. Poe is usually not this careless. “Look, we’ve talked about this already. When you’re trying to do something for someone, you should focus on what they want. Not what you want for them. I appreciate the gesture, but I’m not interested.”

“Is there something else you would like?”

Poe sighs. It is never enough. Nothing is ever enough for Hux. Having the fantasy, the illusion of it, is not good enough. Now he wants to force the real thing. “Hux, let’s not do this right now. Let’s just enjoy a pleasant breakfast together.” Poe reaches for his caf and bumps their feet together under the table, hoping that’s the end of it.

Hux clenches his jaw and patiently says, “I just meant that if you wanted something—”

“You would give it to me?” he says, letting his voice go low. Almost intimate in the space between them.

It makes Hux automatically switch gears. He looks at Poe’s mouth and breathes out, “yes.”

“Good. There is actually something I want,” Poe says brightly. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Poe is the first to admit he’s not very good at being a passenger, but the relief he feels as they land on the beach planet goes beyond whatever he might think of the pilot’s skills.

The sun is low in the sky and the ocean opens up in front of him, endless. There is nothing else surrounding them as far as he can see. It’s just the two of them, completely alone and isolated from the usual baggage. No one has to play Supreme Leader here. “Come here,” Poe says lying down on the blueish sand.

Hux grimaces but carefully folds his legs until he’s sitting crosslegged next to Poe. He doesn’t look exactly relaxed, but he looks more human without his usual elaborate attire. Casual wear suits him. “I don’t like being planet-side.”

“Why not?”

“It’s an uncontrolled, unpredictable environment, more than any other.”

“Anywhere you have living beings is an unpredictable environment.” _You never know what you’ll end up getting_ , Poe thinks watching the tide, seeing the waves come closer and closer, almost threatening to pull him under.

“No need to add nature to the equation, then. And I don’t see any enjoyable activity we could do here.”

“This is what you wanted. An inhabited planet where you would be safe.” When Hux scowls at him, he adds, “we’ll take a nice walk down the shore, but you’re right, we’re not staying here.”

Hux tenses. “What do you mean?”

“I was thinking, we lose Irat and Malea and I’ll take us to our real destination. We come back and pick them up in a few hours.”

“You’re not supposed to name them and absolutely not.”

“They named themselves because they wanted to. I just helped them brainstorm a little. And it’s a bit of a mood-killer to have them here.”

“It would be a bit of a me-killer to have them gone.”

“That’s not true, I’ll protect you.” He knows Hux doesn’t exactly trust him, and that’s fine because the feeling is mutual, but he also knows that even a sliver of Hux’s trust is more than most people have. “Unless you think you’re in danger from me?” Poe debates letting some offense bleed into his voice, but decides against it; there’s a limit to how much blatant manipulation Hux is willing to put up with.

Hux stares at him for a long moment and then rolls his eyes. “Where are we going?”

“It’s not far from here.”

Hux tilts his head and looks at him. “That’s why you over packed.”

“I knew you’d figure it out.”

“What are you putting me through now?” Hux asks in a pretend longsuffering tone. It’s almost believable.

“Don’t worry. Nothing you won’t enjoy.” Poe doesn’t smirk or wink or bother making it sound like flirting, but then again, he doesn’t have to. Hux is easy and he reacts all the same.

Poe stares at the mountains almost glistening in the distance while Hux finishes layering up. They look impressive; imposing, daunting but not menacing. Conquerable. “You have been outdoors before, right?”

“Excuse me?” Hux looks at Poe completely unamused, like Poe is an idiot.

Poe laughs. “No, I meant, doing outdoorsy activities, interacting with nature. Things like that.”

“Yes, just not hiking. Recreational hiking, at that.”

“Well, it’s gonna be fun and you’re gonna love it.” Poe moves in front of him and reaches for Hux’s scarf, attempting to fix it up for him. His hands come up in a reflexively defensive gesture and wrap themselves around Poe’s before relaxing and moving to his hips.

“I doubt that.”

“You might hate the journey, but you’ll love the destination. You trust me to know what you like, right?” Poe asks.

Hux remains quiet, squinting at the distance and blushing prettily around his nose. That’s not how Poe meant it, but Hux has a one-track mind.

Hux keeps complaining and wanting to stop. It’s cool and the heat’s not overbearing; the reflecting light from both suns casts their path in a warm amber glow.

“It’s good for you to get out every once in a while. You spend all your time in your throne room.”

“Playing with my Tarkin dolls.”

Poe turns around, but Hux doesn’t seem annoyed, not more than usual. “You remember,” he says, letting himself sound fond. It’s not hard, the memory doesn’t have any negative associations for Poe.

He waits for Hux to catch up and then grabs his hand, pulls until he’s well within his personal space.

“I’m sweaty,” Hux says, brushing his hair back from his face with a huff.

He is and he’s flushed from the exertion. The air at this altitude is cool and fresh; the planet in general tending toward a more frigid climate than a tropical one. The hazy sunlight reflects on his mildly annoyed features and Poe thinks _this is how I like him. A little undone._ He wants to press against him and pull his face forward until there’s no distance between them, leave him breathless for a whole different reason. Instead, he steps back but keeps their hands linked. They are in unstable terrain after all. “We’re almost there.”

“We won’t hike back down, will we?” Hux asks.

“Nope, we’ll get an airspeeder. I don’t wanna tire you out just yet.” Poe can hear how that sounded a little suggestive but it doesn’t warrant the way Hux reacts, as if Poe had propositioned him right there. He’ll be careful about what he says next, but it might be _hard._

They trudge up the steps to a cliff that affords them a nice view of the valley below. There’s an outcropping of rocks further ahead but they stop to catch their breath and catch the view. They’ve been keeping a sedate, conversational pace but they’ve been at it for a while.

He offers Hux his water bottle and he takes it without comment; they’ve shared far more than that. Poe watches as Hux swallows, his throat working, how he licks his lips and pants a little. It’s an intimately familiar sight. Poe glances down from where they are overlooking the dale. There’s nothing around that compares to this.

It’s a pretty romantic sight, Poe realizes. He didn’t plan it like that, but it’s not like it matters. He enjoys seeing the twin suns set from the mountain, their fading light reflecting on them, catching on Hux’s hair, making it almost glow. It has come loose from its usual product after the day’s activities, but Poe likes it better like this. He gets a vivid reminder of all the times he has carded his fingers through it and pulled.

“What do you think, then?”

“You mean, what is it worth the effort and pain it took to get here?”

_The pain_. Poe almost rolls his eyes. “Sure, if that’s how you want to see it.”

“I guess it was worth it for the new experience. Now it’s a matter of whether the new experience is worth it,” Hux says.

“It will be. Don’t I always show you a good time?”

Hux swallows, the words landing just like Poe wanted. “It’s unlike anything I have ever seen. It’s stunning.”

_Is it more beautiful than your planet-destroying weapons?_ Poe wants to ask, but it’s ultimately not worth ruining the moment for. He splays his fingers on Hux’s back and feels him exhale. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I like you,” he says, sounding raw and honest, like Poe never expects him to be. It disarms him a little. Poe leans forward and kisses him, sweet and tender, the way that always makes Hux go pliant against him; disarming him right back.

Back in the shuttle, with the blue glow of the navi computer reflecting on them, Poe asks, “did you have fun?”

“I did. Thank you.”

Poe frowns. “Thank you for indulging me, man. I know this is not your usual thing.”

“I can learn to like new and different things.”

Poe smiles, genuine this time. “I’m glad I’m broadening your horizons.”

Hux turns to look out the viewport and Poe flinches when he feels Hux’s hand against his knee. He doesn’t have a problem with it, but he’s not used to Hux initiating touch. For all that they’re fucking, Poe feels like he gets no actual contact from him, or anyone else for that matter. Hux lifts his hand away, but Poe grabs it and places it back on his knee. The touch is not unwelcome. Poe has been at times tempted to tell him _you can touch me whenever, wherever, however you like_. He’s not worried Hux would take it too far; he’s too proper and repressed for that, but he doesn’t want to seem eager. It’s the kind of thing he assumed would go unsaid. “You startled me. It’s fine.”

Hux spends the rest of the ride back home tracing indiscernible patterns with his fingertips. Poe could pilot them with his eyes closed, so he doesn’t mind the distraction.

Of course, it can’t last. The peace ebbs away.

“You executed two of your own people on the bridge?” Poe says, storming into Hux’s rooms, making his way toward his desk. He’s mostly mad at himself for forgetting about this side of Hux for even a moment.

Hux looks caught out for a second before he places his datapad carefully on his durasteel desk and says, evenly, “you heard.”

It was impossible not to, even if no one wanted to go into specifics. Everyone was on edge, jittery, more siloed by paranoia than usual. “...were you hoping I wouldn’t?”

“No, it was a purposely public act. You were bound to find out.”

Poe can’t look at him. He focuses on the communication screen to Hux’s left, the silver chrono in the wall to his right. Every surface is polished and glossy, so Hux’s reflection feels pervasive. "You waited until I was off-ship."

“I didn’t want you to witness it.”

Poe scoffs. “You think you can shield me from who you are? Fool me into not seeing your murderous nature? You’re not that good.”

A muscle twitches in Hux's jaw. For a second he looks wounded, not just hurt or angry, but genuinely wounded. His ego, no doubt. “They were plotting against me. Are you disappointed I dealt with them before they could finish the job?”

They never talk like this, Poe realizes. They talk business, brutally plain about their arrangement or they talk around it, affording Hux the illusion that this could be something it’s not. Poe has been very careful not to upset that balance.

“Are you suspecting _me_ now?” Poe knows that Hux’s paranoia is boundless, but he has to be smart enough to realize Poe has had opportunities to hurt him and has chosen not to take them.

“No. I just meant, their intent was not to depose me so they could start peace talks and abandon power. So whatever ideas you have about how they would have been preferable to deal with are just fantasies.”

“You’re making assumptions based on nothing but your—”

“Unless you’re just bored with me and your aim was just to find someone else to—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” Poe knows that Hux is just lashing out because he’s upset and feeling insecure, but it doesn’t make Poe any less angry at him.

Hux looks down and away before stiffly saying, “I’m sorry.”

Poe laughs incredulously. “That, you’ll apologize for?”

“Yes, I don’t wish to offend you and if I did, I regret it. What I don’t regret is eliminating traitors. I suggest you develop a stronger stomach and get used to the idea because I doubt this will be the last time such actions will be necessary.”

Poe sighs and sits across from him, the surface between them feeling infinite. He’s still mad at Hux, but that’s never stopped him from being in his presence, in close physical proximity. “You can’t pick them off one by one. They’re your people.”

“They’re not my people if they’re plotting against me. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Are you asking for my counsel?” He reaches out and touches Hux’s hand, slowly and tenderly where it rests on his desk. Like Hux will never admit to liking.

Hux looks down at their tangled hands for a moment before withdrawing from Poe’s touch. “No, and you should leave.”

“I can stay.”

“I said you should leave.”

Poe would rather stay and work off his anger on (or with) Hux, instead of stewing on his own, but Hux is firm in his refusal. It stings. He’s not used to Hux rejecting him.

They've gotten too entangled to stay apart. They're too drawn to the comfortable bubble they've built around each other when it's just the two of them. It doesn't keep reality from creeping in, though.

“I don’t actually enjoy killing my own people,” Hux says resting his head against the back of the couch. Poe stares at his profile, his tense posture; he looks both severe and conflicted. The harsh lightning in his room never does him any favors.

“You enjoy killing people who think they can outsmart you, though.” There aren’t a lot of people who can successfully do it, either.

“They thought their cause was righteous. Up until their last moment, they didn’t falter. I guess the same could be said of most traitors who aren’t acting exclusively in self-interest. They wanted to set the Order back on its right path because it has lost sight of its true goals under my rule.” He sounds shaken, like he never imagined someone would doubt his commitment to the cause. Maybe he pictured himself on the other side more easily. Going on a crusade to stop those who perverted the Order’s goals, ridding it of the non-believers.

Poe can read between the lines of what’s he’s saying, though. “Are you blaming me for that?”

“I should, perhaps, reevaluate my priorities regardless of how unwilling I am to do so. I can’t allow this to go any further, any higher. There are people I must answer to, the people funding us. I can’t allow myself to be undermined because I—”

“Because of me.”

“Yes.” Hux turns to look at him briefly, his gaze determined, before it slides away.

“You’re too smart not to have seen this coming.” Poe can’t say a part of him wasn’t counting on it. The Order was no stranger to infighting, after all. He didn’t see it playing out like this, though. He was lacking context.

“I was stupid and selfish. I have done everything I had to do. What was necessary. This time I just wanted something for myself.”

“Someone, Hux. I’m not something.”

“I meant a connection.”

The way Hux looks at him openly and earnestly makes Poe recoil. _He still wants me to want him_ , Poe thinks. It makes him nauseous.

“I need time to deal with this. I need you to be reasonable. You’re not doing yourself any favors by getting me replaced with someone less accommodating.”

He’s right, but Poe doesn’t have to like it. It feels as if he’s taking something from Poe beyond the obvious. _The cover of plausible deniability,_ his brain supplies, but Poe dismisses the thought before he has time to dwell on it. “We’re putting your end of the deal on hold, then?”

“I understand you might find that— unbalanced.”

“So I’m supposed to just stick around for the pleasure of your company?” Poe asks.

Hux opens his mouth but looks away, clenches his jaw, and says, “you’re free to leave but don’t be surprised if my interest in our arrangement wanes in your absence.”

Poe hates him, resents him. Not for what he said but for the way Hux has managed to land on something that elicits a genuine reaction in him. Poe wants to hurt him, wants him to feel the same hurt he feels in this moment. Shared pain is as close to understanding as they’ll get right now. “Are you threatening to replace me with a more agreeable model?”

“It would hardly be a difficult task to find someone more agreeable, but no, that wasn’t my intent. What I meant was that it would be far easier for me to pursue and achieve my goals if I diverted my focus away from you. A fact you are aware of and happily exploit.”

Poe scoffs. “My heart breaks for you, for having to abide by the terms you agreed to and have regularly been benefiting from.”

Hux sets his jaw and says, “I’ll make arrangements for your departure.”

There is more to lose than to gain by leaving. Poe can’t risk losing whatever progress he’s made with Hux, whatever hold he has on him. He can wait him out. Has nowhere else to immediately be, anyway.

The view is better from here. The viewport expanding in front of him. It isn’t exactly his idea of being among the stars (too still, too distant. Unreachable) but Poe can occasionally accept it as an adequate substitute. The lounge is completely deserted except for them. He stares out into space once more before focusing on Hux.

There’s this awkward energy surrounding their interactions now. Poe wants to believe it’s solely created by Hux but the truth is, he feels wrong-footed. Not by Hux, per se, but by the notion of Hux being off-limits. Poe knows he could touch him, reach out and pull him closer, press against him, make him unravel. It would require Poe to admit to things he’s unwilling to even examine.

“If you could settle down anywhere, where would you go? Would you live in Yavin 4?” Hux asks.

“Kriff, no. I couldn’t wait to leave and I don’t think I’d ever go back there permanently. Don’t get me wrong, I love it. It’s a beautiful place, but it’s— it’s my dad’s home, it’s not for me. It never really was. I found it —limiting. I felt like I was living in exile. I was a pretty overdramatic kid if you couldn’t tell,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Hux asks.

“What were you like as a teen? Did you have a rebellious phase?”

“No, no. I kept to myself a lot.”

Poe tries to imagine it and hates the unknown feeling the image elicits. He wants to cross over to where Hux is sitting and settle in his lap, kiss him until they’re both breathless and Poe doesn’t remember that constrictive feeling anymore. “Did you—?” he starts before Hux interrupts him.

“Tell me about your droid. Beebee,” he says intently.

“Oh, you know Beebee. What do you wanna know?” They get along even though Hux can’t understand him.

“How he came to be — in your possession.”

“Oh, he was assigned to me by the navy. I’ve had him since day one. That was a little over six years ago,” Poe says.

“But he wasn’t yours. He was the property of the New Republic fleet. Why do you have him _now_?”

“He chose to leave, follow me when I joined the Resistance.” The words taste wrong in his mouth, as if he’s recounting a performance he once put on.

“And he was — allowed? To choose? He could— walk away from everything and join you?” Hux sounds vaguely distressed by the notion.

“Yeah, of course. It had been — two years, I think, by then. We had bonded. You know, our first mission together was disastrous. Not by fault of either of us, but he saved my life. For the first, but not last time. I actually didn’t like droids when I was growing up. I had never had any contact with one in Yavin 4 and I found them odd. I distrusted them because they weren’t living beings whose intentions, I thought, were easy to decipher.” He laughs humorlessly. “Shows what I knew.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Actually interacting with droids. I was a dumb kid in many ways.”

“You brought Beebee here.” It’s not a question, so Poe doesn’t feel the need to reply, but Hux adds, “I was wondering about that. Your reasons.”

“I knew this would be a long-term arrangement. I would miss him and I wanted someone to talk to. Something to feel like home.”

“Do you talk to Beebee about me?”

Poe bristles. He does, but he’s not going to tell him that. “Not everything’s about you. That said, in the not-so-distant past, you barely talked to me. I was lonely. I’m glad I had Beebee.”

“Are you still—?”

Whatever he was going to ask gets cut off by Beebee’s arrival. “Hey buddy, we were just talking about you.” Poe pats his dome. “Of course. Absolutely,” he says, mock-affronted at Beebee’s reply.

“It’s poor manners to do that,” Hux says.

“You could always learn binary. No one’s stopping you. Didn’t you grow up surrounded by droids?” Poe asks.

“Not exactly.” After a long pause, he adds, “I had a nanny droid when I was growing up.”

“And?” he prompts when Hux remains quiet.

“And it looked after me?” Hux says confused. “The end.”

Poe rolls his eyes. “What a riveting story. You totally did not leave out all the interesting parts.”

Hux scowls at him but says nothing. After a long pause, he adds, “so you would take Beebee with you.”

“Take him where?”

“Wherever you chose to live. That arrangement would include your droid.”

Poe frowns. “What are you asking?”

“Nothing. I was merely making an observation.”

Poe sighs. Hux has never met a mood he didn’t know how to ruin. Once an uneasy silence settles over them Poe yawns and says, “come on, Beebee. Let’s go to bed.” He turns to Hux. “Get some rest. Don’t use my absence to skip getting a good night’s sleep.”

“You’re not absent,” he says, sounding almost pleased. Not at all bitter by the withholding nature their arrangement has taken.

Poe reaches out, unable to help himself, and squeezes his hand. He’s wearing gloves, which Poe doesn’t like but if Poe removes them for him, he knows he won’t stop there.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ll be gone for a week, at the very least,” Hux adds.

Poe sometimes forgets himself, so it’s a good thing Hux acts as a constant reminder of their circumstances. “I see. Have fun. Don’t bring me a souvenir,” he says before walking away.

Just one more thing Hux keeps to himself.

It’s convenient the effect Hux’s presence has on a room, especially lately. Everyone rushes out when they see him approach; it makes it easy to encounter privacy in even the most public places. No one on the bridge is looking at them and the place is as empty as Poe has ever seen it.

“That was a nice interrogation session last night,” Poe says.

“Pardon?” Hux looks confused and not caught out, so presumably there weren’t any actual torture sessions last night.

“When you asked me all those personal questions and gave nothing back?”

“They weren’t particularly personal, I thought.”

“Personal enough that you’re unwilling to answer them yourself.”

“I’m not being secretive. I’m just not hiding anything.”

“So you’re exactly who you appear to be? That’s what I’m supposed to believe?” There’s no progress to be made with Hux, just the illusion of it, he reminds himself. Poe keeps trying to see past the artifice that Hux has built for himself and uses as a shield, but mainly he wants to be allowed to see and not have to rely on stolen, half-formed glimpses.

“What would you like to know?” Hux asks.

“I want to know something I can’t find out from going through intel files. Something I can only get from you.”

“You know plenty about me that no one else does, that no one else will know unless you tell them.”

Poe tries not to wince at the intensity of his words, at the implication behind it. Hux’s idea of permanency and commitment terrifies him, the matter-of-fact way he refers to _forever_ being much more than Poe feels comfortable confronting. “I’m not talking about sex. I want more. I wanna know why you chase this notion of power when you don’t truly seem to want it.”

“I’m a self-serving, power-hungry megalomaniac. What more do you want?”

“The real reason.”

“I want the safety it affords me. Security and stability. It’s an unassailable position. It allows me to have things I would otherwise not have,” he says, looking intently at Poe.

Poe figures that is true. He tries to picture the past year of his life if he hadn’t come here, maybe he could’ve met someone, fallen in love, planned a future together. “You’re miserable. Already were when I came here.” He knows Hux will deny it, he’ll pretend this is actually everything he ever wanted, just as he envisioned it.

“You’re mistaken,” he predictably says. “The scale has never been quite so tipped toward happiness before. I am happy with you.” He’s not looking at Poe when he says it, choosing instead to glance out the viewport, his profile in stark contrast with the ascending sun.

There must be some truth about feelings being easier to share and process when you’re looking in the same direction as the other person instead of at them. Poe turns and says, “even like this? When we’re—”

“I’m just happy you are here.”

Streaks of light are starting to penetrate the sky, filtering through the windows, reflecting heat past the transparisteel surface. It isn’t possible but it feels as if it were bleeding warmth into the room.

Their time apart does help to bring some things into perspective.

It is possible, Poe thinks, that he has been too mindful of Hux’s feelings, too careful to protect the illusion he has of their relationship. It’s not Poe’s fault if he’s gotten attached or too comfortable living in their play-pretend. True love was never on the table. It had never been part of the deal.

Hux returns from his mysterious trip almost two weeks later. Poe tries not to think about all the damage Hux could’ve done in that time — conquering, enslaving, and exploiting people. The fact that they don’t get evidence or even rumors about it means nothing. Hux is good at playing the long game.

He looks worn out as he _leans_ against the threshold of Poe’s room. Abandoning his rigid posture and looking exhausted. Hux has never been the picture of healthy living, but this—

“You look terrible,” Poe says.

Hux blinks tiredly. “We can resume our — arrangement now.”

“Oh, right now?” Hux looks dead on his feet, but Poe wouldn’t mind tiring him the rest of the way out. He could push him down on the bed, suck his dick until Hux came down his throat, then roll him over and fuck him while he’s pliant and relaxed under Poe’s hands.

“No, not— I just wanted to—” He looks at Poe, in his usual intense way. It stopped being unnerving a long time ago, Poe realizes. “Let you know before I retired for the night.”

“Stay here. You’ll collapse on the way there.” When Hux hesitates, Poe grabs his hand and makes him take that extra step inside.

Poe wakes up to a hand across his midriff and a solid body against his back. He has missed this, he can admit to himself now; a mortifying truth he would’ve preferred to keep buried.

Hux splays his hand against his stomach, moves it under his shirt. His breath against the back of Poe’s neck warms his skin.

It’s impossible to think of Hux as anything but painfully human these days. He gets hungry and tired, picks his food, and presses his cold feet against Poe when they’re sleeping. He needs the same things everyone else does. The realization has been gradual and is not as unwelcome as he would like.

There is value in knowing when and, more importantly, _how_ to argue with Hux. His approach to winning arguments is the most infuriating and needlessly convoluted that Poe has had the misfortune to get entangled in.

Hux would start from the most unreasonable and extreme position, regardless of how far from his real goal it was, so that when he de-escalated into what he truly wanted, his position would seem reasonable; a compromise. He also had the horrible habit of calmly turning other people’s statements into questions, just to get the other person to question themselves and agree with him. Sometimes it was best to avoid that by taking a more direct approach.

Hux’s warm breath brushes against his abdomen, his hands mapping out the places he’s been in countless times before.

Poe sighs, touches the side of his face. “Hux, we need to talk about the stormtrooper program.”

Hux’s touch falters and after a second he removes his hands completely. Leaning away from Poe, he says, “right now? Whatever you’re going to ask the answer is no. I think I have been more than accommodating in your demands. This is off-limits.”

“We never set anything to be off-limits. On either of our sides,” Poe reminds him. Not that he would’ve agreed to something like that. Hux can ask for or do whatever he wants to and with Poe, regardless of how little he takes him up on that. Turnabout’s fair play, though.

When Poe disentangles their bodies and moves away, Hux lifts his hand toward him, his fingers twitching before curling them closer to his palm. “You don’t have to go.”

Poe stops and says, “you’re unwilling to even hear what I have to say. I’m not going to force your hand. It’s fine.”

“What was your— suggestion?”

“I think you should make the program voluntary. Stop the kidnappings, the brainwashing.” Poe has been building up to asking for this. He realizes now that he may have rushed it out of frustration for the time that’s been wasted already.

“That is no way to form or maintain an army. You have no idea what it takes to—”

“The Empire did it. Do you lack faith in your cause’s ability to inspire people to join voluntarily? They would. If nothing else because they’re after money or stability or adventure.”

“What you are asking for is logistically impossible.”

“Why are you spending all those credits on recruitment propaganda for, then?” Poe has been reduced to spending sleepless nights going over budget reports and expense records. It’s weirdly fascinating and it has clarified the reach of their propaganda techniques. It’s pervasive and inescapable. It’s apparently also highly effective but they are, after all, targeting the desperate and disenfranchised; those whose loyalty they can buy with the promise of shelter and regular warm meals.

Hux groans. “That serves a different purpose.”

Poe knew this was going to be a hard sell. If Hux can’t be reasoned with, he’ll resort to plan B. He leans forward and grabs Hux’s dick, touching him the way he knows Hux likes. He kisses the spot under his jaw that makes him go pliant under his hands and then bites and sucks until he’s left a mark. Right where he can’t hide it, like Hux has been wanting. He has too many hangups to just ask for it, though.

Speaking of hangups, “if you do this, you can fuck me,” Poe says right against his ear.

Hux shudders and looks at him for a moment. “I’ll think about it.”

They both know it means yes.

“Have you done it?” Poe asks.

Hux looks up from where he’s fingering Poe on their — _Hux’s_ — bed. He doesn’t pretend to not know what Poe means. “It’s a work in progress. As such, I am working on it.”

Poe’s about to say _then that’s a no then, isn’t it?_ before he realizes it sounds like something Hux would say. Kriff, how horrifying.

When Hux has three fingers inside him, he asks, “can I, now?”

“No, a deal’s a deal. You have to deliver your side of it _first_.”

“But I will do it,” Hux says, gritting his teeth.

Poe pushes him back to straddle him and says, “but you haven’t done it yet.”

Hux looks up at him. “It’s not that easy. The techniques we developed, the inner workings of the program are embedded into what the Order is and, more importantly, could be. You’re asking me to do away with years of—” He swallows and says, “taking over this program meant—”

“I know. I know it’s a legacy thing for you. You don’t want to settle for an inherited legacy, though.”

“You don’t know what I want.”

“Don’t I?” He moves deliberately against Hux and says, “don’t move.” He grabs Hux’s dick and presses the tip against his ass, before pulling away. He does it again, enjoying the promise of something that he knows won’t happen. He does it a third time and moves a little lower, almost breaching himself, but moves away. He teases himself one last time and then moves steadily until the head of Hux’s dick pops inside him. Poe half-falls forward and pants against his chest as Hux groans loudly and moves his hands to grip Poe’s thighs tightly.

It feels good, but it’s not enough. He wants to keep sinking himself down, wants to have Hux’s dick stretching him and filling him up, wants to give them both what they want. He squeezes down on him once and then lifts himself off and lies next to Hux, unbelievably sexually frustrated.

“What are you doing,” says Hux, sounding disoriented.

“Finish doing what you promised. Only finishers get to fuck.”

Hux looks like he’s about to lose his mind and Poe definitely relates. This is all his fucking fault, though.

Finn visits soon after Poe shares the news. It was Rey’s turn but she’s on an away mission with Rose. Everyone slotting neatly into newly-defined roles.

They’re sitting on the floor in the lounge, their backs against the opulent but uncomfortable settees that make up the recreation area, sharing pancakes with poptree syrup that Finn brought. (“I thought maybe they were only feeding you nutrient paste,” he said. Not quite, but it’s really not good, flavor-wise.)

“So they’re just going to stop the kidnappings?” Finn says dubiously. “I’m having a hard time believing that. You just asked him?”

He says it casually, but Poe still feels his face heat up. He feels exposed, even though Finn can’t possibly know the specifics. He takes a moment to reply, chewing slower than he has to, before saying, “Yeah, he can be reasoned with.”

After a moment, he asks, “do you think they keep records of our homeworlds? Details about where they took us from? Our families?”

“Definitely.” That sounds like Hux.

“Do you think he would be willing to share them?” Finn asks.

It depends on what kind of intel is there, but, “I can ask him.”

“Maybe I could talk to— Hux,” he finishes awkwardly.

Poe tries not to wonder what could’ve been in that pause. “Let me talk to him first.”

Finn frowns but doesn’t comment. Poe has a bad feeling about this.

“I believe that to be a futile endeavor,” Hux says when Poe brings it up. “Those planets were in crisis, completely abandoned. There was nothing else to be found, nothing to go back there for. Not to mention, it has been years.”

Poe watches from one end of the long conference table as Hux talks with his gloved hands clasped tightly behind him, his back to Poe and his gaze fixed on the transparisteel wall of the meeting room.

“It doesn’t matter. It might provide a sense of closure. You have nothing to lose by sharing it and nothing to gain from withholding it.”

“I’ll consider it.”

Poe sighs. Hux is distant and unreachable. It’s good enough for now. The convincing will have to wait.

“Hey,” Poe says, entering the conference room.

Hux is hunched over his datapad and Poe can see several holo readouts above the table. He nods but doesn’t acknowledge Poe otherwise.

“Hey,” he repeats, perching on the durasteel table and trying to gauge Hux’s mood. “You’ve been good,” he says playfully.

Hux leans away from the table and turns his seat to face him, his hands clasped across his middle. He scowls and says, “this is a logistical nightmare. I hope that pleases you.”

He sounds annoyed but not more than usual, so Poe barrels on. “You considered what I said. You talked to Finn.” Poe has been trying not to torment himself about what might have been said, whether they talked about him. Obviously they didn’t, there were more urgent matters to discuss.

Hux leans back on his seat, but moves it closer to Poe, shifts his knees apart a little, wanting to give the appearance of relaxation. “We had high hopes for him. He would have had a lot of opportunities for career advancement if he had stayed with us.”

“Hux—”

“That’s part of the reason why I considered his request. I also thought it would be a good idea to share the measures we’ve taken to modify the program. He was smart and capable. I don’t suppose that’s changed. I don’t presume the Order has a monopoly on those traits.”

“What’s the rest?”

“What?”

“You said that was _part_ of the reason. What else?” Poe asks.

“He would understand exactly what your demand entailed. He would know how to execute your vision by virtue of sharing it. By virtue of being your friend who knows you and is on your side.”

There’s an unreadable undercurrent of emotion in his words that Poe doesn’t want to examine. “That was smart of you.”

“Thank you,” Hux says stiffly.

Poe moves closer to his right and Hux meets him halfway until they’re within touching distance. He looks tired, more than usual, and Poe feels something in his chest tighten at the sight of him.

Hux places his hand on the table, between Poe’s right hand and his thigh and after a moment, moves it to his knee. His touch awkward and stiff and familiar.

Poe moves his legs apart and Hux takes it as the invitation it was, sliding his hand upward toward the inside of his thigh, carefully tracing the inseam of his pants; a maddening back and forth.

When Poe’s about to lean down toward him, the door opens. Hux immediately takes his hand away and leans back on his chair, but it’s too late.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Finn says after a silent pause that makes up for its brevity with an unbearable amount of awkwardness.

Poe forces himself not to scramble to put some distance between them. “What’s up, buddy?”

“It can wait,” he says, not even looking at Poe.

Hux moves toward the table and grabs his datapad. “I have a lot of work to get through here, so—”

“Right, yeah. I’ll—” Poe stops himself before saying _see you tonight_.

“He seemed almost tolerable,” Finn says, shaking his head. There has been a long and heavy awkwardness hanging over them since the meeting room incident, threatening to snap and break but instead resuming apace. The long ride in the turbolift seems interminable. “When we were talking. I almost forgot how monstrous he can be. I’m sorry I asked you—”

“It’s fine. I was happy to do it.” Poe looks forward at his reflection on the smooth surface in front of him and notices the physical distance between them. All the more notorious because of the small place where they are trapped in.

“You don’t have to do that on my account. You don’t have to pretend—”

“I’m not. I know him. He just needs to be handled with care.” It’s amusing to think of what Hux would say to that and he finds himself almost smiling at the image.

When he turns to look at Finn, he is frowning. “Do you— like him?”

“No, I— it’s complicated.” Poe looks away, willing the lift to reach their destination faster.

“Are you serious? Poe— I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“It’s not like I’ve forgotten who he is.” It’s not like he could. Hux can’t help but be himself.

“That makes it worse,” he says, an edge of betrayal and hurt to his words. Finn’s right but when Poe winces he adds, “no, I don’t mean— just, you’ve been here too long.”

Poe should take the easy way out. He can’t try to explain something to Finn that he’s not sure he understands himself. “It’s not that. I’ve just gotten to see something different from him. I know him as _more_ than a symbol.” He’s become disgustingly human to Poe.

“We need to try harder to get you out of here. We need to _actually_ —”

“Finn, no.”

“I won’t do anything you wouldn’t do.”

“Finn, I’m serious. Don’t,” Poe says firmly, catching his gaze and holding it.

Finn looks at him sadly but doesn’t protest. The rest of his visit is stilted in a way that things with Finn never are.

Poe feels a brief second of relief when Finn leaves. It’s barely there, but it’s not brief enough to keep the guilt at bay.

The throne is hard under his hands but soft under his knees where they’re splayed on either side of Hux’s hips.

He tries to go slow, but he’s been aching for this for longer than he’s willing to admit. He sinks down without pausing until Hux is all the way inside. He gives them both a moment to adjust before he starts moving, setting a fast pace that leaves his thighs straining.

Hux pulls him down until their noses brush together until they’re panting against each other’s mouths. “Poe, I love—” Hux says before Poe seals their lips together.

It’s not what he imagined. That’s what Poe keeps thinking about as he rides Hux fast and hard, leaving them both breathless.

“Slow down,” Hux says against his skin, almost delicately kissing his collarbone. Poe breathes out and languidly rolls his hips forward. Hux moves his hands to his hips and his mouth to his neck where he starts working on what will probably be a very visible hickey.

Hux drags his lips up to his ear and says, “you love this. You want this.” But it sounds too desperate to come across as anything but pleading.

“There’s nowhere else I would rather be,” Poe says and hears Hux’s breath catch, come out shaky.

Hux brings their lips together and kisses him like he’s dying, starving for it; biting his bottom lip hard and sucking on his tongue, gripping Poe’s hair to move his head how he wants it. Their mouths move against each other and Hux sighs against him when they pull apart. He looks fucked out, desperate, out of control, vulnerable. _Human_ , just like Poe likes him.

“I want to come inside you,” Hux says brokenly. And Poe _wants_ , he wants _Hux_.

Hux grabs his hips, pulling him faster and harder against his upward thrusts. Hux lets out a shocked exhale when he comes, briefly closing his eyes and leaning his head back, exposing the long, vulnerable side of his neck. Poe reaches out and circles his hand around it, his thumb under his fast-beating pulse.

_He’s just a man_ , he thinks, remembering Rey’s words.

“We need to discuss our arrangement,” Hux says, after spending weeks acting shifty and secretive. More secretive than usual, that is. “I would like to modify it.” He’s being overly formal, his demeanor more suited to his office than to the couch where Poe blew him last night. He supposes it would be hard for them to find a place with some expectation of privacy that they haven’t had sex in. Maybe only Poe’s rooms, which remain off-limits for that kind of activity and lately, more often than not, unoccupied.

Poe should’ve seen it coming. He knew Hux was bound to get enough sooner or later, he was just hoping it would be later, much later. “How would you like to modify it?”

“I would like you to consider marriage.” He has his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his knuckles white, and looks as serious and earnest as Poe’s ever seen him. He doesn’t get on one knee, though, which a small part of Poe’s brain registers as a real shame.

“What.”

“I would like to marry you, publicly, in front of the entire galaxy. Your friends can come, we could do it wherever you like. I would like to formally recognize our union.”

“Are you abdicating?” Poe says, stalling while he processes what Hux just said.

“Is that a condition for you to accept?”

“Yes.” He hasn’t given it much thought, but it’s an opportunity too good to pass up.

“You could rule by my side,” Hux proposes.

That was definitely the wrong thing for Hux to say. It makes Poe angry that Hux would know him so little. “I’m not interested in that. Do you think my moral system comes with a clause attached? ‘This is unacceptable unless it’s me doing it’? I don’t want that.”

“You could be my conscience.”

Isn’t that already what Poe is and does? Teach him how to be a person? “It’s non-negotiable.”

“I see,” Hux says, fuming and storming out of his own room.

The more Poe thinks about it, the angrier he gets. For a guy that prides himself on being rational and above feelings, Hux is once again letting his insecurities guide his actions.

On the other hand, Poe sees a real opportunity here. He doesn’t want to put Hux completely off the idea. He just needs Hux to make it worth his while.

“I can’t be expected to marry someone who calls himself Supreme Leader of the galaxy,” Poe says, dropping by Hux’s rooms the following day. Enough time that the initial anger must have somewhat subsided and not enough for Hux to talk himself into being angry again.

“Why not?”

He leans back on the couch, the single most comfortable piece of furniture on this ship, and says, “it’s a silly title you gave yourself.” Poe decided he would start light and then work up to the actual problems. Let Hux guide them there.

“It’s a silly title I earned,” Hux says, before catching himself. “It’s not a silly title.”

“I can’t say the words ‘my husband the Supreme Leader’ and that’s putting all else aside.”

“What else is there?” Hux sits down on the low table in front of him; their knees bump before their legs slot together, like two mismatched puzzle pieces that just fit.

“Well, you don’t trust me out of your sight. I’ve been a prisoner on this ship for more than a year. It doesn’t matter that I get to see and talk to my friends. You put _a tracking device_ on me. Several times, in fact.” He’s not over that one.

“We could take a vacation,” Hux suggests unconvincingly.

“You’ll take a vacation?” Poe scoffs. “That’s not even the point. I want to be alone without you. What exactly do you think I’ll do? I’ll come back to you. You’ve been true to your word, this works. I wouldn’t fuck it up. What are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.” His lying has not improved one bit. If anything it’s gotten worse, or maybe Poe’s gotten too good at reading him.

“You’ll marry me, but you can’t trust me?” When Hux says nothing, he adds, “if I say no—”

“You’ve already said no.”

“—will you rescind the deal completely?” Poe asks.

“The deal stands. The changes I wished to make are not on you.”

“I’m not saying 'no' yet, then.”

“Where will you go?” Hux asks from the threshold, watching him pack.

Poe was horrified to discover that he had migrated most of his things to Hux’s room. It was just more convenient. “I know you’re going to send people to spy on me, so I’m not going to make it easier by telling you.”

“If you ask me not to send them, I won’t.”

Poe laughs. “Consider this me asking, then.”

Poe can tell Hux wants to say something else, but he wisely refrains.

“Come here,” Poe says when he’s in the hangar bay. There are, as always, people around; pilots and troopers and technicians. All working nonstop toward making their well-oiled system even more efficient in its quest for power, all the while being on edge because they’re not used to being around their Supreme Leader. When he pulls Hux down and kisses him, he’s doing it as much for Hux’s sake as he’s doing it for himself.

He visits the Resistance base first, now a full-on prosperous settlement. There are people jovially talking and working side by side. The scene is almost completely foreign to him. He knows, logically, that life has moved on without him, that he has missed a lot of things in his time — away. But, again, knowing is not the same as seeing.

“What? What is this? Are you back? For good?” says Finn.

“Just for a little while.” Finn and Rey have been taking turns visiting each month but it’s really not the same. “Come on. Show me around.”

He’s a guest in his once-home.

“How is Hux?” Finn asks in a forcibly casual manner. Poe was wondering when they were going to get around to that. They’re outside, surrounded by a vast expanse of nature. Beyond the treetops, there is the open sky; the sun beginning to rise, casting warmth and an almost shimmering light against them. The energy feels completely different here.

“Hux is— Hux.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Finn asks carefully.

“It’s — a good thing, most of the time.”

“Right. I — that’s — it’s not really my place to try to understand it. It’s not like I want things to be as unpleasant as possible for you. You’re making the best out of a tough situation,” he says, nodding to himself.

“It’s not just that.” Poe wants to explain it now because it’ll only be harder to do so later if he accepts— He won’t think about that now. “I know the things he’s done. I know who he is.” There lies the problem, maybe. He knows him too well. “I still am — drawn to him.”

It feels like an incomplete and unsatisfactory explanation, even to his own ears, but Finn looks away and nods, looking pained for a second before saying, “he could always be worse?”

It makes Poe want to laugh, a euphoric feeling building inside him. Yes, that’s a good way to describe Hux. _He could always be worse._ He squints at the sun, feeling warmth suffusing his body.

He goes to Yavin 4 next. He was tempted not to, but knew that would be cowardly, so he made himself make plans with his dad to hold himself accountable.

The first day is painfully awkward. His dad talks around the issue and acts like Poe’s been away doing his hero thing with the Resistance. Poe’s happy to play along. The play-pretend obviously comes with an expiration date, though.

The second day, Poe spends it reassuring his dad that he’s fine, _really_. He doesn’t know how much of it is a lie, but he feels miserable either way.

On the third day, his dad tries to convince him not to go back. It’s the worst one by far. When he says _there are still things for me to do there_ it sounds far too much like _I have a life there._

On the fourth day, he asks about Hux.

“He’s exactly how you’d expect in some ways, but he won’t stop surprising me in others,” Poe says, looking past the treetops at the perfect curve that the rising moon makes in the distance.

“Is he easy to deal with?” his dad asks.

Poe almost laughs at the idea of anything with Hux being easy in the conventional sense of the word. “I can handle him. He’s intense and driven, paranoid, and single-minded.” What else can he say? He’s clingy and insecure and has a million sexual hangups?

“He sounds exhausting.”

Maybe. Definitely, but Poe has put in the effort to get to know him and finds it almost rewarding to be able to _see_ a person so clearly. “He’s fairly easy to be around, actually,” Poe says, taken aback by his own admission.

Kes looks unconvinced but says nothing.

“He asked me to marry him.” Poe hasn’t told anyone else. Not wanting to know how other people will feel about it before _he_ has a chance to figure out how he feels about it.

“Are you considering it? What do you get out of it?”

_What do you get out of it_. It’s not the kind of partnership Poe envisioned for himself and he’s sure the same thing is going through his dad’s mind. He thinks of his parents’ marriage and then thinks of his mom and then makes himself stop. “I asked him to abdicate.”

“And he said yes?” His dad asks, clearly surprised and somewhat pleased.

“No, but I could persuade him.” When that makes his dad look uncomfortable, Poe changes the topic.

Poe has been gone for twenty-two days. He hasn’t had any communication with Hux and doesn’t want to, either. He’s not worried Hux is taking this opportunity to terrorize as many worlds as possible because Poe will find out and Hux will have to fix whatever he fucked up. The days when he pulled out his troops and washed his hands off of the resulting mess are long gone.

He goes to Canto Bight next. He has a clear plan: he’ll get a little drunk, hook up with a random person, and see how he feels about it afterward.

He knows he’s breaking their agreement, but even if Hux finds out, he’ll take Poe back. He’ll be angry and humiliated. His feelings hurt and worse, his ego bruised. But he’ll get over it and take him back. There is a limit to how much he can push Hux but for the past year, Poe has been methodically testing his boundaries and carefully backing away whenever he encounters an unyielding barrier and he knows Hux has been doing the same. He finds comfort in the knowledge and the results this awkward dance has yielded. Poe needs to either prove himself right or prove himself wrong about his feelings for Hux. What he can’t keep doing is wondering nonstop about it.

Poe gets as far as the door to the guy’s room before he has to get out of there. He can’t do this. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Finn was right, Poe thinks. Hux could always be worse. However, he could always be better. Poe wants him to be better and is willing to push him there. He wants Hux worthy of the all-encompassing feeling that keeps threatening to suffocate him. The deep urge he gets to preserve it and feel it for the rest of his life. Love, he supposes.

He goes back to Hux as he (but perhaps not Hux) always knew he would.

Hux meets him in the hangar bay, his fingers flexing over and over. Poe goes to him and pulls him down until their lips connect. Kissing him passionately and thoroughly, not caring that they have an audience.

“I missed you,” Hux says quickly, under his breath.

When Poe answers ‘me too,’ it’s the complete and horrifying truth.

Poe doesn’t bother going to his rooms. He doesn’t feel the need to keep up the pretense, though he does see the value in keeping a place away from Hux. The past few weeks have demonstrated that. Hux watches him intently but keeps his distance, like maybe he thinks Poe is a decoy.

Once he has showered and gotten dressed, he sits on their bed, bracing himself for that one final step. “I tried to sleep with someone while I was gone,” Poe says, feeling compelled to tell the truth if only to make a point.

Hux goes rigid in front of him, his hands clenching into fists. For a moment he looks like he’s genuinely thinking of hurting Poe, but it’s fleeting and when it passes he says, “I see.”

Poe could say _and I did and he was bigger and better than you_ , hitting all of Hux’s insecurities in one go. But he doesn’t want to lie to him and he doesn’t want to hurt him, either. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. What I’m trying to say is, I don’t think marriage is—”

“May I say something first?” Hux says, almost urgently.

“Sure.”

“In the past few months, I’ve been focusing all my efforts on consolidating my power, my allies, so that a peaceful transition to democracy can be made without someone assassinating me before it comes to pass and taking over, making things miserable for everyone. Especially you.”

“Do you mean—?”

“I’ve been Supreme Leader with you and I’ve been Supreme Leader without you. If I can choose, I would rather have this, us. I’ll abdicate.”

Poe had been planning on accepting his proposal either way. He holds Hux’s gaze and his hand against his, before saying, “let’s get married, then.”

It feels good to say it, to embrace it. The exhilarating feeling of knowing you can’t come back from this.

The actual ceremony is _embarrassing_. Garish and excessive in a way that seems like bragging. He almost feels as if Hux is flaunting him, or more accurately, flaunting their alleged true love. He can’t even begrudge him his ‘I’m a real boy with real love in his life’ act because it’s not like Poe’s blameless. It is, after all, the absolute truth.

The actual process of abdicating takes longer than Poe would like. Hux is serious about it, so Poe knows it’s not stalling. But Poe, embarrassingly enough, does end up saying the words ‘my husband the Supreme Leader’ more than a dozen times, much to Hux’s barely-restrained delight.

It’s fine, though. He gets used to it.

_Put down your sword and crown_

_Come lay with me on the ground._


End file.
